


Tournaments and Turnabouts

by JoversusWriting



Series: Guardians of the Marigold [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/F, F/M, Gen, Homebrew Content, M/M, Multi, Original Campaign, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 80,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoversusWriting/pseuds/JoversusWriting
Summary: A drunken half-orc, a pyromaniac grung, a silent mime halfling, a flirty tabaxi, a faun with a taste for daisies and sweets, and a walking suit of armor head into a bar...Sent out on the vaguest of vague quests to "find the change of winds in her future", the only slightly tipsy monk Tipsy presumes the strange druid with an obsession with fire named Ziggy who won't leave her alone is about as much of a change as she's ever gonna get. But on a stopover in the warmongering kingdom of Ironhaven, Tipsy and Ziggy end the last line of defense against a kobold attack. Wrapped up in a quest to save kidnapped villagers alongside four other newfound adventurers, it will take all of Tipsy and Ziggy's wit, skill, and lack of self regard to ensure they make it out with at least three outta four limbs intact.
Series: Guardians of the Marigold [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958095





	1. The Town of Belimar

The carriage smelled horrible. Horse piss and musty cloth, and a hint of manure. Still, it was a _free_ ride; the farmer had mentioned something about the gods and a festival and all that, though it was hard to understand him under the hangover he was clearly nursing. Ziggy had been insistent that the ‘field slave’ take them to Belimar, a location neither of them had ever heard of but apparently many went to, and one Ziggy was sure he would find ‘much heroics’ in. Either used to being talked down to or unwilling to talk up to the two foot grung, the farmer let them in the back of the wagon.

Ziggy stirred, mumbling something about fire in his sleep. He did that a lot-fire, flame, explosions, anything that could burn. It came in handy for distractions, if a little risky. How Ziggy had managed to not set half of Erora on fire yet was a mystery Tipsy dared not entertain.

Best not to give him any ideas.

There was a jolt forward. Tipsy hissed, head whacking against stiff fabric covering the roof of the wagon. Ziggy yelped, awake in a second, slapping damp and sticky red hands against her shoulders to steady himself. He had assured her he wasn’t that poisonous, whatever that meant; she presumed he was the reason for her chronic headaches coming back.

The sound of footsteps against dirt, and the loosely covered entrance to the wagon opened.

“W’here.” The farmer said simply, and just as quickly as he poked his head in, went back out. Tipsy sighed, blinking, and stood up.

“Let’s get this bullshit over with.” She said, though there was no bullshit to get over. Ziggy was still somewhat groggy, saying something about ‘ _hurry up travel slave_ ’ under his breath, and stepped out of the carriage.

A cool breeze hit her face. Refreshing, after being stuck in the stuffy carriage for so long. It was either a ride from the farmer, or hopping onto a boat back to Hammershire, and with how volatile that kingdom has been lately Tipsy didn’t want to risk it. Ziggy didn’t seem to mind either way. Whatever he had planned, it didn’t require going to any particular place. And she had no plans at all, so it all worked out.

There was incoherent shuffling, and Ziggy, suddenly as awake as a hot ember, popped right out of the bag, landing with a huff on Tipsy’s head. He peered out, scanning the countryside. Mostly a lot of cottages and farms, though there was clearly some kind of bustling market up ahead.

He licked his lips. “Water,” he said, nodding to himself, “Do you think these feeble minded backwater shits have any water?”

“Yes Ziggy,” Tipsy said, “I think they have water.”

“ _Goooood_ , good.” Ziggy nodded against, a smug smile on his face. Suddenly, he raised an eye ridge. “Oooh, I think I see a commotion! Oh-oh, no, it’s not a fire.”

Lightly jovial music become more and more noticeable. Dirt became cobblestones, and more and more people began to pop up. Mostly humans, Tipsy noted, though a good amount of halflings, fauns, and gnomes were also present. Large banners displaying the Archeron family crest lined the streets, and vendors of all shapes and sizes were present. The sharp smell of bread interrupted her thoughts, and Tipsy looked over.

A stout man stood by a bakery stall, a mountain of freshly baked goods next to him. It wasn’t the bread Tipsy was interested in, though. After such a long trip, only one thought was on her mind.

Tipsy approached the man. A gnome, definitely, with big green eyes and a smile too wide to be fake. Thinking for a moment on what to say, she tapped her quarter staff against the ground, awkward leaning down so the short stick could actually reach the cobblestones (that’s what she got for buying the two-and-a-half foot one and not the six foot), almost instantly attracting his attention, despite the hustle of the crowd around her.

“Nice...bread.”

_Nailed it._

The gnome stared, and then grinned, smile somehow even wider now.

“Ah, thank you kindly! We bake every loaf fresh and right each and everyday, family’s secret recipe!” He motioned to the table, “Would you like souhhhhhmmmm?”

Ziggy, with no regard to personal space or the concept of you break it you buy it, leapt out of the backpack (or as he like to call it, his ‘personal palanquin’, whatever that meant) and onto the table, venomous toes inches away from the bread. “Hmm, yes,” he said, “Very nice. Do you have any water?”

“To add to that, anywhere that I can get some ale?” Tipsy cut in, hoping Ziggy didn’t inadvertently ruin the products.

“Erm, the Old Marigold Inn! Just down that way, plenty of beer and plenty of water!” The baker said jovially, almost instantly regaining his pep. Still, a nervous eye was kept on Ziggy, still looming over the loafs of bread like a dragon over its prey. Ziggy did not care, and looked ready to claim his newest victims when he finally processed the information and scrambled back into the backpack.

“To the Old Marigold Inn!” Ziggy cried as if it was his idea.

“Thanks.” Tipsy said, unsure if she could even be heard above the crowd. Damn, a rowdy bunch for sure, and noon had only just past. It was easy to push through the crowd, taller than a modest amount and sturdy enough to shove through the rest, it was just a matter of finding that inn. Plenty of stalls, and temporary tents sent up with extra seating, but no inn visible yet.

Tipsy could almost taste the ale on her lips. Oh, sweet beverage of the goddesses. Would Ironhaven ales taste different? Gullmoor drinks, or at least the ones that she liked, always seemed to have a slightly salty taste to it, regardless of what was used.

Finally, a large wooden building with surprisingly ornate stained glass windows of yellow flowers came into view. Even Ziggy could figure out that this was the inn. It was clearly packed, people filtering in and out, but there was no line, and even if there was, Tipsy wouldn’t care.

Tipsy swung the old doors open. It was even larger inside, plenty of wooden tables and booths around, everything packed to the gills with party goers. Lining the old log walls were trinkets-clippings of letters and announcements, small pins and foreign coins, and the occasional pictograph. Still, it retained a homey air, a bouncy faun woman greeting guests by the entrance, hair pulled into a messy bun of brown curls and waving a green towel in the air. Her chipper eyes, for better or for worse, focused on Tipsy.

“Ah, hello!” She said in a distinctly _not_ Ironhaven accent, giving a small wave, “Welcome to the Old Marigold Inn! I am the caretaker of this establishment. Any drinks I can get you?”

Tipsy held up three fingers. “Three ales, best you got.” She said, then made a face. “...Under two silver anyways. Ziggy, how much water to do you want?”

“A...uh...erm…,” Ziggy pondered deeply, “Water, right, in a bowl, the biggest bowl you have.”

Clover nodded, utterly unphased. “Biggest bowl we have; well, we have plenty of bowls! If you lot want to find a seat, I know we’re a wee bit packed right now but go ahead and find what you can.”

With that, the faun bounced back, all but sprinting towards the kitchens, where a menagerie of chefs and bartenders were working at a furious pace. Tipsy almost felt sorry for them, but so desperate for a damn seat she took a step forward. Which, in some regards, was her first mistake.

A damn tortle, one of the huge ones that had lived well past their prime, stepped on her foot. Tipsy hissed, stumbling back. And of course, because she was stumbling, Ziggy, suddenly holding onto her head for dear life, made a blind grab and covered her eyes. Now, she had to contend with fuck her foot with ow dammit her eyes-

“Dammit!”

Tipsy shook her head. Ziggy, thoroughly dizzy, had slid back into the pack at some point. No one had paid them any attention, thank god, though her hair was definitely a mess.

_Okay, take two,_ Tipsy narrowed her eyes.

In her new position, she spotted a single table by the very end. It looked empty, though as she got closer, she realized there was someone there. Some kind of cloaked figure, nursing a pint and looking at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The only company with them was the tiniest flower vase Tipsy had ever seen, with five half dead flowers in it, and one white flower that seemed supernaturally perfect. They definitely had horns, that much was clear, probably a faun. Definitely not happy to see them approach, and even more tense when Tipsy stood by one of the empty seats across from them.

While she normally wouldn’t care, it was a holiday, and she was trying to be nice. “Mind if we take a seat? My friend can sit on my should...”

Ziggy flopped onto the table.

“...Nevermind.”

While tense, the cloaked figure slowly nodded. Jesus, their horns were huge, and under the hood Tipsy could just make out a golden nose ring.

“I sup’ose it’s not like I’m gonna be joined by anyone else.” The cloaked figure said wearily.

Tipsy sat down, Ziggy awaiting his full luxury spa treatment. She tapped her fingers against the table-t _aptap tap taaaaap taptaptap_ -and leaned close to Ziggy. He didn’t have ears, but it didn’t matter, he had to hear somehow.

“What, uh, do we say? We should at least try to start a conversation.” Tipsy said, “Try to get some info about this town.”

Ziggy glanced over from where he was lounged around. “Whu-don’t look at me,” he said in a voice far too loud and far too obvious, “I don’t feel the least bit obligated to talk to this lowlife, that’s your job, travel slave. I just want my water and you’re hear to get drunk. A seat’s a seat, this is just some cow.”

The cloaked figure looked between Tipsy and Ziggy, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Oh, please let the drinks come soon.” Tipsy begged.

“They’re right here!” Clover’s voice instantly brought up the mood. She slid three large, frothy glasses of ale-ooh, real glasses and not wood, fancy-right to tipsy, and set down a sink sized bowl with one hand next to Ziggy. Without a care in the world, Ziggy splashed in, Tipsy so used to it her eyes didn’t even twitch when water got into her ale. “Enjoy the drinks! Would you like some food? We have plenty of it, yumyum! And the same goes for you Radan, would you like anything?”

Cloaked figure turned and sighed. “Not now, Clover.” They said, shaking their head.

“Course, and for-oh, shoot,” she said, looking behind her, “Ah, Greggor is trying to start a fight again, I’ll be right back!”

Rolling what little sleeve she had up, Clover marched off into the crowd.

Tipsy sighed. “...Quite a celebration.”

“Yeah.” Radan said.

“You know anything about it?”

“Only a little,” Radan shrugged, “Demon king was defeated couple ‘undred years ago, but mostly just an excuse to get wasted from my understandin’. Not like I’ve been here long, I don’t know.”

“Ah,” Tipsy took a sip, licking her lips-not bad, if a little dry for her tastes-, “Of course.”

She downed the first pint in ten seconds, and the second one in half that time. It was the third pint that caused her trouble, really, because as she was drinking it she noticed how the little trinkets in the walls extended up to the high beams in the ceilings, and how cool that was, and wow was that a pirate flag she wondered if-

Tipsy slammed the glass down, and the delicate little vase in the middle of the table went flying off, and shattered into approximately ten billion pieces. Radan flinched, Tipsy sighed, and Ziggy didn’t care because he was too busy enjoying his water like a lord in a swimming pond.

“Ziggy,” Tipsy said tersely, “Hurry the fuck up.”

“Hush, we just got here!” Ziggy shot back, clearly enjoying himself. It was amazing how much the grung liked water when he had such an affinity for burning shit.

Radan, despite eyes being covered by both a cloak and what looked to be some seriously thick bangs, somehow, seemed to rolled their eyes. “I dunno if you’ve noticed but I’m tryin’ to keep a low profile here.”

It was a fatal error on Radan’s part to assume Ziggy had any form of social grace. “What was that? You’re trying not to be spotted?”

He stood up and shook water off himself, like a wet poodle. Some part of Tipsy suspected Ziggy knew exactly what he was doing, and another part still, having spent over a month with him, could absolutely believe he was so ignorant in the world.

“Stuck with the wrong companions for that,” Tipsy held back a chuckle, “We’ll be outta your way soon enough.”

She pawed through her coin bag. How much would a tiny vase cost, one bronze? Eh, too cheap, even for her. A copper? Yeah, a copper sounded good. She was just reaching for the coin when yet another person joined the table, though they sat at the far end, a good distance away from the motley group in the corner. Radan looked like they wanted to disappear into the wall, and eying the man, Tipsy could see why.

This man was clearly on the wealthier side. A dwarven man, taller than most other dwarves she had seen, with bulging muscles under calloused and scarred skin. Ginger hair cut short, except for the beard, of course, that went down almost to his knees, with a thousand little beads and strings of gold woven into it. Fine clothing over him, something familiar about it…

_Hammershire wears_ , Tipsy could just barely recall seeing visitors from so long ago.

“A man like him must be very important, look at all that gold!” Ziggy announced, grinning, rubbing his hands together like a fly. The man paid no mind to Ziggy, staring at the doors with a hardened look in his eyes. “So much golWHOA!”

The doors swung open, and just about every patron was blinded by light bouncing off metal.

It took a few seconds before Tipsy could register what the hell was going on. A knight in shining armor, full armor, in the middle of the fucking day, waltzing right into this podunk tavern in Ironhaven. And, like the dwarf, his armor appeared more akin to the craftsmanship of Hammershire. His silhouette, combined with the sun in the sky, made him glow like a god from the heavens above.

Bit overdramatic, really. He was just a knight.

The knight scanned the crowd, settling on the dwarven man. Though revelers were stunned at first, most went right back to partying and drinking. Really, Tipsy shouldn’t of been surprised when the knight walked forward to their table, and sat down across from the dwarf.

She still was.

Tipsy looked at Ziggy. Ziggy looked at Tipsy. Tipsy winked, and like old pals, both got into position to listen closely. And it wasn’t just them, at least, as Radan was obviously-yet-not-obviously trying to hear more on the conversation.

“...I thought you said this would be a quiet affair.” The knight said, leaning in close and clearly not wanting the three on the other side to hear him.

“Sorry, I…,” The dwarven man sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I know it must have been hard for you to pass through, especially these days.”

“You have no idea.” The knight looked to the side-not the side Tipsy was on, thank the gods, or he would have caught her staring. “This armor is as much a curse as it is a blessing, hard to blend in...wish I knew there was a festival going on, I would have scheduled this at a later date.”

The dwarven man leaned back in his chair. “You know as well as I that this cannot wait. I was supposed to get one of the rooms in the back, but someone up and rented them all out, so this was the best I can do. I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

“I just wish there weren’t so many ears around, if what you’re telling me is true.”

“Ironhaven residents, you know, don’t care much about anyone but themselves. Even if you’re a hero at home, I doubt the common man will care in this here pub.”

There was a lull.

“...The warlock was once here, in Belimar,” the dwarven man spoke suddenly, “But she is no longer. She-my eyes last spotted her heading further south.”

“But she was here,” the knight said, a sudden edge to his voice, “We could have stopped her here.”

“I-I never saw her, only my people. She was here, yes, but something spooked her and she’s moving south. I’m having my people track her, but this is all I can give you. I-I’m sorry for making you come all this way-I-I will tell you, if you stop by Graymouth, I do have a cousin there. I can relay some information with her, she’s an excellent blacksmith, her name is Fevia. I’ll keep in touch, and if you happen to need more information, there’s a good chance she’ll have it by the time you make it there. But this-this is all I can give you for now.”

The knight didn’t speak for a moment, almost seeming to sigh instead. “Thank you,” he said richly, “I really do appreciate all this.”

He held out an armored hand, and the dwarven man shook on it, lingering for just a moment before standing up and hurrying out.

“The goddess doesn’t seem to be on my side anymore...” The knight, again, looked off to the distance, this time audibly sighing, before whipping his head around in Tipsy’s direction.

Tipsy had long learned the fine art of _not_ listening in but also psyche not really, currently pretending to down her final ale that had long since been emptied. Radan, equally skilled if not better at it, was almost invisible from the angle the knight must be at, scrunched against the wall and still nursing that drink. It was just dear, sweet Ziggy who was the problem.

He was staring directly at the knight.

“...Can I help you, sir?” The knight sounded as confused as he must of looked under that helmet.

“Huh-oh, no! I’m just,” Ziggy gave a little shrug, “I was just uh, watching?”

The knight glanced between Ziggy, Tipsy, and Radan. “You didn’t hear much of that, did you?”

Ziggy continued to stare. After maybe ten thousand years of silence, he finally spoke.

“You’re big.”

“Well, yes, I am a paladin of Hammershire, comes with the job.” The knight said, tone much lighter than before. Tipsy wondered if he thought he was dealing with a child. In some ways, he probably was.

Tipsy put a hand on Ziggy. “Uh, forgive my companion,” she said, unsure how to act in front of an actual fucking paladin from Hammershire, “He’s not the best with words. Hammershire, um, is certainly far from here. Well, not too far I suppose...you uh, must have a title then?”

“Yes, of course-my apologies, I sat so rudely at your table without even introducing myself. I’m Elowen von Iris, also known as Elowen the Valiant. It is an honor to meet you all.” The paladin gave a short bow at that. Elowen the Valiant….vaguely familiar, again, but Tipsy couldn’t place it.

Tipsy snorted. _An honor, sure._ “I’m Tipsy, this is Ziggy, and uh...”

“Radan.” The faun squeaked.

“Whatever.”

“Ope, I see you’re making friends!”

Clover practically skipped back over. She looked entirely fine, though a patron in the back seemed to be holding a hand over his nose-woman must pack a punch, then.

“Ah, I saw you were having a meeting before, how did it go? Would you like anything to eat?” Clover asked, smiling at this Elowen.

Elowen looked down. “About as well as I could of hoped for, I guess. I...I am afraid the meeting has spoiled my appetite.”

“A pity, a true pity,” Clover looked over to Ziggy, Tipsy, and a very stiff Radan, “Would you like some food?”

“What do you have?” Ziggy asked.

This proved to be another mistake, though perhaps not in the same vein as the three major mistakes Tipsy made. “Oh, well, we have chicken pot pie, that’s our special for today, as well as cheese and biscuits, biscuits and cheese, cheesy biscuits, smoked pork sausage, smoked dracoturtle sausage-it’s a favorite, imported fresh from Dunefold!-onion soup, chicken soup, grosle soup. If you want something lighter I can whip up some pancakes for ya, with fresh blueberry syrup, or I can get you some squarecakes and bird wings, that’s always a classic. Really, whatever you want we can do our best to recreate! This old Inn has seen so many unique visitors, we accommodate to everyone!”

It took Ziggy several seconds to process this information, creepy double eyelids blinking rapidly. “Eggs!,” he demanded, “Sounds great. Do you have any snails with that?”

Clover raised her eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter up. “That, I do not have, but tell you what, I’ll go into the back and get some snails fresh from the garden, yes?”

“Snails and eggs,” Ziggy looked a bit dreamy, only half paying attention to Clover, “A classic combo. Mix ‘em together, watch ‘em wriggle, play god and ask which one should be spared from your hungry hungry divine smiting...”

Clover took that as a yes. “I’ll go get that to the cook, how about you?”

It had been so long since she had tasted dracoturtle, but Tipsy knew it’d be pricy, considering how far it had to be imported from. “Grosle soup, and three more ales. Quite delicious, by the by-”

Tipsy kicked a few of the stray vase shards under the table.

“An excellent recipe.”

“Thank you! It comes from my old great great grandfather, passed down for generations. I will get you your soup and ale, and your snails and eggs. Radan, sweetie, do you-oh, no, okay, that’s fine.” Clover gave a little nod at the faun, who had very quickly shook his head the second Clover said their name, and trotted back off.

Tipsy sighed. She was going to have to deal with that vase at some point, but not now, not after-

“You do plan on paying for that, right?” Elowen asked, tone teetering into dangerous territory.

“Uh-yeah, of course! Just, you know, don’t want anyone to step on the shards.” Tipsy replied nervously, entirely unconvincing. Jesus, she sucked at this. Sue her, she didn’t want to clean the stupid shards up.

“Could at least try to clean it up.” Elowen said again. If his helmet was off, Tipsy was sure his eyes would be narrowed.

“I mean…,” _Fuck it, not like you’ll ever see this paladin again,_ “It’s the tavern’s problem. I’m paying for it but let the-”

“Yes, yes, let the tavern slaves handle it!” Ziggy cut in, nodding furiously.

_Goddammit_ , “No, Ziggy, what did I say about calling people slaves in front of-”

“You are my slave, Tipsy, you can’t tell me shit.” Ziggy put a slimy hand over her mouth, almost instantly causing her lips to numb. Oh, typical Ziggy.

Elowen, to his credit, did not reply. Instead, the glittering knight stood up, bent down, and one by one, bit by bit, began to pick up the glass shards.

Tipsy gaped.

“Wha…?” Ziggy narrowed his eyes. “Why, a man with as much gold as you have must understand the importance of slaves! You look like a man with a lot of slaves.”

Slowly, Elowen turned his head up. “That is horribly insulting,” he said, sounding far too cold for comfort (though, in fairness, Tipsy supposed she’d be equally pissed if she was in his position), “There are no slaves here. What are you even talking about?”

“It’s the highest honor!”

For emphasis, Ziggy leapt back onto Tipsy’s shoulders, standing as tall and proud as he possibly could.

“You look so important, all that glistening gold, you must come from a high...uh...human class? I don’t know how it works here, you’re all so much more confusing than home.” Ziggy huffed, looking back at Tipsy. She wasn’t looking at him, though, but rather, back at the main bar area.

There was something going on, some kind of commotion. Not in a fighting sort of way, but more excited patrons cheering someone on, louder and louder, shaking and smiling and waving pails of beer in the air. Listening closely, Tipsy realized that they were saying a name, over and over again as they slammed glasses against the table.

“Beetle! Beetle! Beetle!”

Two patrons moved their chairs back as a lean tabaxi with gray fur and an obnoxiously weird neck frill leapt onto their cleared table, lute in hand. Just behind him, a halfling with dark brown skin and hair pulled into two tight buns jumped up onto the bar, dressed like a mime complete with makeup. She reached behind her, and from apparently nowhere, pulled out the tiniest trumpet in the world, and blew it once.

A hush fell over the crowd.

The tabaxi cleared his throat, and grinned. “Hello hello, ladies and gentlemen, and especially the gentlemen-”

He paused to wink.

“May I please introduce you all to a new friend of mine, the ever entertaining Jay the Mime!”

A few light claps. Clearly, no one in the crowd was familiar with the halfling mime. Jay bowed, then nodded back to Beetle.

“Take it away, Jay.”

The little halfling gave a curtsey, and threw the trumpet into the air. Somehow, whether through magic or just visual tricks, by the time the trumpet fell back to earth, it had been replace with three glittering daggers.

On his lute, the bard-Beetle, he must be-began to play a frantic tune. In perfect sync, Jay tossed the daggers into the air.

It was, genuinely, pretty damn impressive. No matter how fast Beetle played or what crazy tune he threw at Jay, she kept up the pace and more, daggers flying every which way and yet entirely calculated in their direction. She bounced on one leg, then the other, flipped over and began juggling the knives with her feet, jumped around different tables (much to the delight of the utterly wasted patrons), like a ballerina on steroids, and also a mime, and also juggling dangerous weapons.

From the kitchen, Clover trotted to their back table, food in hand. She paused for just a second to watch Jay complete two backflips and a cartwheel around one of the long tables.

Jay winked. If Tipsy had to guess, it was meant to be a little seductive.

Clover grinned, held a thumbs up, and winked in a much less seductive manner. More like a grandma after telling a joke to her seven grandkids, or something.

“Here ya go, dears,” Clover said, setting the food down, “It was not as hard as I thought to get the snails, just had to wash the dirt off of ‘em because they were in a puddle in the back.”

“Oh BABY, those are the best kind!” Ziggy clapped his hands.

“Yes, well, you look like a man who does care what they eat or where it has been so therefor, hopefully it is fine. If you get any kind of disease, don’t let me know okay? Keep that between you.” Clover flashed another smile. Ziggy, of course, did not care, already devouring the eggs and snails at a frankly disturbing rate. “I know you said nothing but I got you salad, Radan, and you!”

She pointed to Tipsy as three beautiful glasses of beer slid to her, alongside a warm bowl of soup. Mm, she could already taste the meat.

“You are a woman who knows what she likes and I like that about you! Order as many as you like.” Clover finished, giving another nod and an equally unsubtle wink before scurrying off.

Just as she left, the mime pranced back to the original table. Somehow, in her act, she got her trumpet back out, and blew it again bowing. The crowd, of course, went nuts. Even Ziggy, still feverishly tearing the eggs and snails apart, paused to bash against his chest. If he was wearing a shirt, Tipsy was sure he would rip it off. Jay gave another, shorter bow, then blew the trumpet one last time, motioning to Beetle.

“Before we end our little act for tonight, II have a very special song I wanna sing all of you lovely people tonight.” Beetle giggled, “To help advertise my services.”

_What does that-_

“I WAS A BARD IN THE VILLAGE DOING ALRIGHT,”

Beetle spun around the table.

“THEN I BECAME A COURTESAN OVERNIGHT!

NOW I GOTTA FIGURE OUT HOW TO HOE IT RIIIIGHT-”

Tipsy suddenly realized this was not going to be the usual song about dragons and adventures. Elowen did as well, suddenly turning very tense and looking at the ground. Well, at least Ziggy and Radan were enjoying themselves.

“SO MUCH TO FUCK AND SING,

UP IN THE TAVERN WITH MY NEW CLIENTELE,

WITHALISTTHATINCLUDESNOBLITY-”

He more or less coughed that last part out.

_“_ _A WHOLE NEW ENCHANTED WORLD IS WAITING FOR MEEEEE,_

_AND I’M SO EXCITED TO BE! YEAH!_

_I’M FINDING OUT WHAT BEING A BARD IS ALL ABOUT,_

_SINGING MY WAY, IT’S AN ADVENTURE EVERYDAY,_

_IT’S GONNA BE MY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME-”_

He took a deep breath in.

“TO FUCK ‘EM ALL CAUSE I’M! BLUE! BEETLE! THE! BARD!”

Silence, and then, roars of laughter and applause. Beetle bowed, purring, and jumped off the table, whipping his hat off and offering it out. Jay did as well, though Tipsy didn’t recall her wearing a hat in the first place, and they were showered in bronze and copper pieces. Beetle was definitely flirty, nudging a few patrons who must have been regulars. Jay was much more reserved, hanging behind Beetle, and Tipsy swore a few times she caught the mime swiping a half finished morsel of a plate or two. Actually, looking at them, Jay was just...taking money. If someone didn’t tip, she’d cast a glance at Beetle, he’d nod, and she would magically come up with a few new coins seconds later.

Jeez, at least Tipsy had standards.

Because Sors was a cruel goddess, fate ensured that the two entertainers would waltz their way into the back, to the very table Tipsy was at. And, of course, they sat down, Jay on Tipsy’s side and Beetle obliviously sitting between Elowen and Radan.

Beetle tipped his hat onto the table, coins of all kind spilling out. He grinned, fangs just visible, and began to count. Tipsy wasn’t sure what Jay did with her money, as one moment, the hat was there, and the next both the hat and the money had disappeared, though her skirts were suddenly looking a lot fuller than before. As the tabaxi examined every coin, piece by piece, Tipsy realized the fucker was flaunting, glancing at the crowd and smiling and winking. And, gross, the fucker even licked a copper when he saw an older gnome making eyes at him.

Tipsy wouldn’t mind taking just a bit from him, if he was gong to be this careless about his cash. Gingerly, she grabbed a copper piece and flicked it between her fingers.

“Certainly a lot you made, there,” Tipsy said, surprised at the own harshness in her voice, “For such a short song.”

The tabaxi immediately scoffed and turned back, eyes turning to slits. “You gonna put that down? I didn’t see you on stage.”

“Relax, relax.” Tipsy flipped the coin back into the pile. “Just figured I’d make some meager smalltalk before you fucked off for the night.”

Beetle giggled, but he held no warmth in his voice. “I am the entertainment of the night, thank you very much-if anyone’s gonna be leaving this tavern tonight, it’s not gonna be me.”

_Oh, I am so gonna take your gold you motherfucker._

Tipsy glanced at Ziggy, who had finally stopped massacring the already dead snails, and was looking at the pile of money. “Um...that’s a lot of shiny metal circles? Do? Do you want a pat on the back?”

Ziggy stopped, then started to reach a hand towards Beetle’s shoulder. Playfully, Beetle swatted it away, probably about to make some playful comment about no touching until you pay. That was obviously the wrong thing to do to the high and mighty grung as he hissed and scrambled back onto Tipsy’s back.

“I am a red grung! Do not touch me, fuzzy song slave!” Ziggy cried. He grabbed Tipsy’s head, and shook it around. “Attack!”

“...Ziggy, I am your travel slave, not your warrior slave.”

Ziggy stuck out his tongue. “I’m your travel slave, not your warrior slave.” he said mockingly, mumbling to himself, but relented.

Beetle, clearly holding back laughter, went back to flaunt-counting his money. Elowen, who had, up until this point, been as quiet as Radan (still pressed into the wall, horns practically crunched forward-it had to hurt, right?), leaned forward.

“Quite the humorous show you and your friend put on there. I’ll tip you extra if you and your friend stop stealing from the patrons.” Elowen said.

Beetle pursed his lips (lips?) up, and exchanged looks with Jay. “Hey now, how much are we holy FUCK.”

Fifty shiny gold coins scattered from Elowen’s hand onto the table. Beetle and Jay looked at each other, looked at Elowen, looked at the coins, and nodded together. “I will be as angelic as Luxia,” Beetle said, “You can start calling me Brother Beetle.”

Jay rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s true!” Beetle proclaimed, hand on his heart.

“I would prefer not.” Elowen began to stand, only stopped when Beetle lashed a long arm out.

“Now now, where are you going? I mean, you dropped this much money,” Beetle waggled his eyeridges, leading Tipsy to momentarily wonder if, since he was covered in hair, that meant his entire face as just an eyebrow, “I wonder what else you can drop. That armor, maybe?”

Jay scooted about a foot further from Elowen and Beetle.

“My apologies, but I really must be going, my husband is waiting for me at home.” Elowen said, taking a step back and easily shaking ff the smaller tabaxi.

Beetle shrugged. “That means nothing to me, sweetie.”

“It means something to me.” Elowen shot back. He had just taken a step forward when Clover bounded back.

“Ah helloooo! Leaving so soon? The fireworks haven’t even begun,” Clover another sure nod, “They’re the best part!”

“I really need to be leaving, it’s a long journey back home...” Elowen sounded so very tired, his gaze at his feet and hands stiff against him. Clover patted him on the arm.

“But you look so sleepy!,” Clover protested, despite every inch of him being covered in armor, “Please, I insist you stay and enjoy the festival, it will rejuvenate you! Plus, I offer a special paladin discount, just for you?”

Elowen, either too beleaguered or too polite to argue, nodded. “I suppose I can stay for an extra night to regain my strength. Thank you for hospitality.” he rasped, and sat back down, Clover heading to presumably retrieve a room key.

It was a good thing that Clover just left, as whether from listening in too closely or just her general tiredness, Tipsy’s glass slipped right through her fingers and crashed onto the floor.

Clover poked her head out from a door.

Or, Tipsy gritted her teeth, maybe she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“I heard a glass, which one of you sly devils did that?”

Tipsy gave a thousand yard stare.

“It was you again!,” Clover gave little finger guns at Tipsy, “Yes I heard it the first time but I was too nice to say anything because I’m too awkward too, ahaha!”

Silently wishing she would explode right then and there, Tipsy reached into her bag and with a surprising amount of strength, tossed three silver coins to the faun. Clover caught them in one hand, smiled, and scurried off to fetch the key.

The inn had gone silent. In fact, aside from a few patrons way too drunk to even stay awake, the motley crew at their little table in the corner were the only customers left. It certainly made for an awkward situation, since Tipsy now had to watch as that damn guilt-tripping knight delicately swept the shards up, stood up, walked over to a nearby waste bin, dump the shards in, and then walk back. He certainly knew how to make a half-orc feel guilty.

“You might as well tell me what you heard.” Elowen said. And before Ziggy could give anoother amazing excuse, he added, “I know you were listening in.”

“Nothin’,” Radan smirked teasingly. Beetle has an eyeridge arched again, filing his nails with a crystal file, fancy bastard that he was. “Just about someone passin’ through the town. Someone you wouldn’t be happy to see, I ‘pose.”

Elowen paused. “What do you know?” He asked.

“I told you, nothing.”

“I don’t believe that.” Elowen said sharply, hands curled. After a second, he relaxed, and looked away. “My apologies, I...I was mistaken. Seems I’m a bit paranoid these days.”

“You know what would really help with that paranoia?” Beetle put down the nail file and leaned too close to Elowan for comfort. “Just relaxing, taking the edge off! Maybe taking that suit of armor off, it looks heavy.”

Approaching with a heavy looking silver roomkey, Clover nudged Beetle. “Drugs?”

Beetle blinked. “What?”

“Is it drugs? To take the edge off?” Clover chuckled at her own horrible joke.

Beetle snorted. “Yes, actually,” he curled the feather hanging down from his cap around his finger, ‘How’d you know?”

“There are illegal drugs in this establishment?” Elowen stood up. “If there are drugs here, I am afraid I must confiscate them.”

“Nooo, nonononono,” Clover waved her little towel around in the air, “I am joking, that was joke, there’s nothing here, I swear. It is very illegal here, I could get-”

She motioned a finger slicing across her head. And then just for kicks, winked at Beetle, who laughed again. The joke, of course, flew right over Elowen’s head.

“I would have to bring you in if you did have any.” He repeated, arms crossed.

“You-you are from Hammershire, you have no authority here! I have more respect in this town than you do.” Clover crossed her own arms, somehow looking equally intimidating.

Elowen let out a sharp sigh. “Considering that our kingdoms are unfortunately merging, it would seem that my authority is due to expand.”

Clover scratched the back of her neck, and gave what was either a sheepish grin or a nervous frown. “Well, that is true, but to be fair technically you are a second class citizen compared to me. It’s sucky but it’s true.”

The knight was silent for a second, then slammed a fist against the table. “Ironhaven will pay for what it’s done to Hammershire.” He said, voice low but loud.

Clover grimaced. Even Tipsy flinched-by the spirit of Bane this man was truly unafraid to speak his mind, he just didn’t care at all. Tipsy didn’t know a lot about Ironhaven, but she knew how...patriotic the country was, and how adverse to, ahem, criticism it could be, especially from foreigners. She glanced at Radan.

“You hear this guy? You hear him?” She said, in almost total disbelief. For a second, Tipsy wondered if guards were about to come pouring in, but then Clover simply shrugged. “Eh, fair enough. Radan, actually, I have a job for you, for coin. You look honest enough, you know, I can’t see your eyes because of your bangs but I once saw your eyes and there’s trust and passion there, I love it.”

She slid Radan a small envelope.

“I need you to drop this off to Harkin’s General Store, it’s very important. I’ll give you half coin now, and the rest later. Thank you!” Clover smiled, and pulled a gold coin from her apron. She flipped it to Radan, Radan catching it in one hand.

Radan took the envelope, briefly shaking it as if that’d reveal some amazing thing. When that did nothing, they pocketed the envelope. Jay appeared quite interested, though went back to juggling some silver ball bearings when Radan glanced back at her.

“Well, I suppose I got to do this then.” Radan said, standing.

“I suppose you do.” Elowen replied. He cleared his throat. “I...need to fetch some things at this general store as well, do you mind showing me the way?”

Radan presumably stifled another sigh (so many sighs going around today), and nodded. “Fine, fine, I don’t mind.”

“You the uh, delivery faun for this here joint?” Tipsy asked, suddenly. Maybe this could give her some useful info, maybe not, who knew. Definitely not her.

The faun shrugged, allowing his hood to flutter down. “Eh, more just general tasks, haven’t been here for that long. I just run the errands for Clover whenever she asks.”

“Very helpful young fellow!” Clover called from across the bar.

Ziggy’s eyes lit up in wise understanding. “Like a proper slave.”

Radan looked at him, perched on Tipsy’s shoulders. “I get paid,” they said, slowly, “You just saw me gettin’ paid.”

“That’s right!,” Ziggy turned a fierce look to Clover, “Why are you paying the cow man?”

“Because they are not slave!” Clover wagged a finger, “He is a worker!”

Ziggy huffed again, ignoring the pat on the head Tipsy gave him to try and calm his frazzled and delicate mind. “Everyone’s so backwards here, I don’t understand...”

Clover stepped out from the doorway she was about to enter. “You know what? You should all join in the festivities! Go have fun! There are some seasonal stalls open that I am sure you would enjoy, Beetle, eh? And I’m sure you adventurers would love the sights Belimar has to offer, yes!”

Tipsy nearly chocked. Adventurers? _Adventurers_? Since when was she, a lowlife good for nothing of a half orc, an adventurer? An idiot, a mistake, a brewer of decent beer if she was in a decent mood, but never an adventurer. She didn’t even have a goal since leaving the monastery, master hadn’t given her anything concrete, she was, at best, a wanderer.

Jay shared her thoughts, making a sour face and looking at her hands, where two of the three ball bearings she had been juggling laid. The third one appeared to have vanished, somehow, yet again.

“And I know you could all use some fresh Ironhaven air, so go have fun!”

For what Tipsy hoped would be the final time, Clover walked to the back, door slamming behind her.

Radan stood up, stretching their legs out for a moment, then silently motioning for Elowen to follow after. The mismatched duo walked towards the doors, only stopped when a blur of black and white slid between them and the doors.

Jay, wearing the most serious expression Tipsy had ever seen on anyone ever, stared at the two, half their height. Then, she held up two small fists, and uncurled to reveal the two ball bearings, with poorly drawn smiley faces hastily added onto them with ink. Where she had gotten the ink from was a mystery. When did she have time to draw the smiley faces on?

Elowen cautiously took the ball bearing. “Thank you.” He said as if Jay had just given him the most important treasure in the world.

Radan did not take the treasure.

“Wait, wait!” Beetle cried, standing up. “I wanna come too! I wanna see what we’re all doing, and I’ve got gold to spend before a fun night out!”

Ziggy looked at Beetle as he sprinted across the room to Jay, trailing behind Radan and Elowen, then back to Tipsy. He cleared his throat, rolled his hand around, and then snapped his fingers. “Prepare the palanquin!” He cried in a shrill voice, “I want to go to the general store!”

“Why?” Tipsy asked hazily.

“Because...because uh...I want to!”

Ziggy jumped into the backpack, pointing a very obvious finger at the exiting group. It was here Tipsy made her second mistake, in hurrying to join the group, instead of staying for one last pint. And she had forgotten a tip-what kind of monster forgets the tip?

By now, the streets were packed. It was only due to her height and her companions unusual features...well, no, it was mostly just Elowen’s golden armor reflecting light like a mini sun that allowed Tipsy to spot them amidst the swarms of people. As she pushed and shoved her way through, Ziggy yelling strange and baseless insults at anyone who dared get in his way, Tipsy noticed a uniquely ornate carriage parked next to the inn.

It was strange, if only in how the people in it acted. The carriage was a typically fancy kind Tipsy had gotten used to seeing on the rare occasion; red with gold foiling swirling around. But whoever was in there was trying so very hard not to be noticed, far more obvious about it than Radan. A figure tied two gray horses to a post, wearing a long, dark cloak that hovered just above the ground. A guard stood up top, or perhaps two, she couldn’t really tell. Inside, someone could be seen, and vague murmurs could be heard between an older and younger sounding voice. Nothing distinct, though.

Beetle licked his lips, and put a hand on his hips.

“Well,” he said, a grin slowly forming, “What do we have here?”

Tipsy glanced at the bard, and back to the carriage.

He took a step forward.

A million alarm bells went off in her head. “What are you doing?” Tipsy asked, but Beetle was too far gone. She hoped that maybe inside the carriage was an old client of his, but somehow she doubted it.

Not that she cared, mind you. Far from it.

This was going to be hilarious.

For just a second, Beetle broke from his stride towards the carriage, and looked over, back at Tipsy, a yawning Ziggy, and an unamused Jay.

“Watch this.”

As if he was the god of love himself, Beetle strutted over to the carriage, and stuck his head-no, his entire upper body through the open window to the person inside. Briefly, Tipsy saw alarmed blue eyes go wide, someone in a dark blue cloak slamming themselves against their seat in a similar fashion to Radan, and stoney gray eyes staring at Beetle.

Up ahead, Radan and Elowen has stopped their silent walk to stare. “Is everything alright?” Elowen had called, but got no response.

Tipsy felt her lips curl up.

Inside the carriage, the younger voice fearfully piped up. “Um...hello?”

There was the distinctive sound of a sword being pulled out of its sheath. The guard near the front, as well as another guard that popped out of who-knows-where, leapt into action, swords out and grim looks on their faces as they approached the tabaxi.

Feet swinging in the air, tail swaying back and forth, Beetle spared a short glance behind him. “Okay, more than one I see, that’s fine,” he said, not a care in the world, then leaned even further into the carriage. “So, where you from? You come here often? Tell me a bit about yourself, you look like a lot of fun and I have all night.”

Tipsy couldn’t hear what the passenger inside said next, but one of the guards, the one to the right, began to reach over, presumably in an attempt to either slaughter the tabaxi or rip him off the carriage.

There was no need-as soon as those fingers grazed Beetle’s neck, he leapt behind himself with a truly impressive cartwheel. While Tipsy thought Jay was next to her, Jay slid in front of Beetle, doing little jazz hands at the guards while still, somehow, giving off an air of ‘don’t fuck with me or my stupid flirty friend’.

The guards remained tense, then turned back to the carriage. After a few moments of quietly exchanged words, the cloaked figure stepped out, followed by a third guard who must have been with him inside the carriage. The three guards kept intimidating eyes on Beetle as they trudged towards the Marigold, disappearing through the doors. When they were finally safe inside, Jay relaxed, spun around to Beetle, and motioned for the bard twice her height to bend down.

She then slapped his face as soon as he was in reach.

“Hey, don’t blame me! They were the ones who threatened to slice me in half, Jay, I was just trying to be nice.” Beetle crossed his arms.

Jay made a few hand motions that could only be interpreted as _‘You dumb fuck you could have died’_ , though her silent rant was interrupted by a most ungainly snort.

Despite herself, Tipsy fell to the ground, tears springing from her eyes as she began to laugh so loudly she was sure half the town could hear her. Ziggy, of course, wasn’t pleased that she had fallen so behind in following Radan and Elowen, and was demanding that she pick herself right off the ground and go to the store of generals, but Tipsy didn’t care. By the eternal soul of Gruumsh, that one moment had made all of the previous day’s bullshit so, so worth it. She could already see Beetle going to trial for crimes of horniness-god damn he really had no self preservation. Not that Tipsy did either, but at least she didn’t walk up to mysterious carriages and stick her head in.

“Come on, come on!” Ziggy hollered, slapping little hands against her head, “I want to go! Listen to me!”

Finally, Tipsy regained some semblance of composer and stood. Jay, of all people, took her hand, looking up at the half-orc with sparkling eyes. Beetle, pretending as though the past five minutes never happened, took Jay’s free hand. Her feet just barely touched the ground, Jay began to sway back and forth, like a kid on a swing.

Ziggy looked at this with confused eyes, then jealous ones. “Hey, that looks fun! I wanna do that!” he cried.

“You’ll have to come down from my shoulders.”

“Never!”

The rest of the walk continued in blissful silence. Radan was long since ahead, but Elowen was clearly pacing himself to keep an eye on the four troublemakers. Well, one troublemaker and three bystanders. If this tabaxi got them all killed, Tipsy was going to be so pissed.

Belimar was a quaint town with a lot of fun buildings; perhaps she could convince Ziggy to spend just a few more days here before they set out on the road for...whatever that strange little dude wanted. She passed by a delicious smelling butcher, and a quaint little bookstore that, for whatever reason, stuck out to Tipsy. Maybe it was the way it looked so much older than the other buildings, or the fact that clearly, it very few patrons.

Harkin’s Dry Goods was a quaint little building, converted from what looked to be an old barn. Peeling white paint marked its name over faded red, and many townsfolk could be seen entering and exiting. Must of been a popular place to shop, though Tipsy supposed most general stores were.   
  


By the time she entered, Radan was already handing the letter to a tall, muscular man with ginger hair and rosy cheeks. Alongside the usual rations, there was a wall behind the counter the man was at that had some more unusual goods; most notably, multiple weapons, from long bows to lances. Probably why those goods were behind the man, away from the usual customer poking and prodding. Elowen was distractedly looking at some of these weapons, from a good distance away. Beetle, of course, appeared to be scanning the crowd, and seemed vaguely disappointed by whatever he had found.

“I ‘ave a delivery from Clover.” Radan said as they passed the letter to the man at the counter.

“Ooh, that has my name on it! Thank you!” The man clapped, and took the envelope, tearing it open. He looked through the yellowed paper contents, and nodded. “Ah yes, this is last week’s bill. Thank you very much!”

The aptly named Harkin looked between Radan and the customers in line, that Radan apparently skipped right over to deliver the message.

“Actually, you look familiar. Have I seen you before?”

Radan suddenly looked very, very nervous. “Uhm, I’m not suuuure…? Probably not?”

“Are you sure? I don’t know-Perhaps we were star crossed lovers in another life? There’s a familiar aura about you, I’m not sure.” Perkins prattled on. Radan looked at him with their eyes narrowed, then, suddenly, realization struck. Radan’s eyes went wide, and they turned away.

“Yeah, no. Bye.” They said, and walked off. Harkin waved them bye as Radan made a beeline for, of all the aisles, the sweets section.

“Strange, strange...oh, hello tiny child! What can I help you with?” Harkins gave a toothy grin down, leaning over the counter.

Jay blinked, then pulled her collar back to show her... _chest_. Harkins looked further down, grimaced, and then gave an even wider smile.

“Oh, you are a halfling. I...am so sorry.”

Jay flipped him off.

“I deserve that, yes yes. Um...so, do you want to buy anything?”

Tipsy exhaled sharply, and looked around the room. Elowen was so clearly distracted, it’d be so easy to just...take a little…

“We could do a distract ‘n rack on the knight,” Tipsy said quietly, only for Ziggy’s lack-of-ears, “But he seems so nice, I’d feel bad.”

“Why feel bad for him? We don’t know these guys, who gives a shit!” Ziggy thundered down at his taller companion, earning multiple glances. Oof, they were going to have to do another talk about his indoor voice again. “This is so boring, there has to be something to do!”

“There was that bookstore we passed, wanna pick up some kindling for the road?”

Ziggy very much agreed with that idea. And, somehow, the rest of the party, one way or another, had the same idea. As she exited the converted barn shop and walked to the bookstore, she noticed Jay and Beetle lagging behind, a shiny new slingshot in Jay’s hands. Elowen and Radan were just up ahead, glancing between each other but saying nothing. People kept looking at Elowen, eyebrows raised, but said nothing to one another.

When they arrived to the tiny wooden shop, Elowen held the door open for Radan, and noticing the rest of the group coming towards them, kept the creaky door in place until everyone had walked in.

There was a distinct stench of must and dust. An old human man sat by a small desk, reading some ancient looking book on arcane spells, adjusting tiny bifocals. He glanced up, made a face, and looked back down.

“What do you want?” The old man spat.

“I...I’m just here to peruse.” Elowen said. The old man grumbled, and went back to ignoring their existence.

Radan subtly nudged Elowen, and motioned the armored knight forward. Tipsy kept a close eye on them, and as lowkey as she could possibly be, kept a few paces behind them. She wasn’t usually one for straight up spying, but...well, no, she was, she was a curious bastard and wanted to hear the drama. For whatever reason, Beetle and Jay were close by as well, clearly listening in as well, though Beetle seemed to reading some kind of romance and Jay kept pulling out books, observing their interiors for just a moment, slamming them shut, and then moving on to the next book.

Her fingers ran along dusty history books, until it hit something much smaller and softer. She pawed for it, pulling out a tiny picturebook, alongside a giant cloud of dust.

“Ah-fuck!” Tipsy cursed, just able to to stop herself from sneezing and dislodging her passenger.

“Watch it!” Ziggy hissed, clearly remembering what happened the last time Tipsy sneezed when he was still on her shoulders.

He had been a very unhappy and very muddy grung that day.

A frustrated growl emerged from her throat as Tipsy flipped through the book. It was clearly old, the ink all faded and pages stiff and yellowed, but its contents were still readable. It was instructions, on how a child can survive a dragon attack.

Gods, Ironhaven was weird.

Elowen was at the back of the store, looking at old battle texts, though it wasn’t that big of a space so Tipsy was still able to see him. Radan snuck up behind him, casually leaning against a shelf, arms crossed as if they didn’t care about anything.

“So, you’re a paladin.” Radan said simply.

“I am.” Elowen replied, clearly unsure what Radan was trying to get at.

Radan glanced over at the old man, distracted in his readings. Quietly, they leaned over to Elowen. “You were lookin’ for a warlock?”

Elowen tensed. “I am, yes.”

Radan went in for the kill. “Do you know their name?”

“...I do. What makes you so interested?”

Elowen shut the book he had been half reading and put it against the shelf, right back in its original place. Couldn’t let the book be disorganized, though the store was already a chaotic dump.

“I’ve been living around these parts for a long time. I know almost anyone.” Radan said smugly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

After a moment of consideration, Elowen leaned in. He whispered-

“You gonna pay for that?”

Tipsy grumbled. The old man was leaning over his desk, a pointed stare in Tipsy’s direction. She begrudgingly shut the picture book and shoved it into the shelf, ignoring Ziggy’s feeble attempts to command her to grab a few of the heaviest books he could spot and get him sone fine kindling. The man clearly didn’t appreciate that, and it took a few jabs for Ziggy to finally get some form of a hint and shut up.

She glanced back over to Elowen and Radan. Whatever Elowen had said or asked, Radan seemed displeased and a little confused, shaking his head.

“Regretfully, no, I don’t think I have. But there’s all sorts of witches living in the mountains around here...” Radan looked at the ground, hooves tapping against the wooden planks.

“I’m looking for that one in particular.” Elowen replied.

“Do they have something of yours?” Radan questioned. Elowen tensed again, then seemed to...laugh, almost, and Tipsy could almost imagine the small smile on his face.

“They have a lot of things of mine.”

Radan gave some kind of weird, half sympathetic grunt.

“Yes,” Elowen nodded, “Quite…’ _eugh_ ’.”

His attempt to mimic Radan was as cute as it was funny. Tipsy had to stifle a laugh, which definitely caused both of them to glance at her, and probably blew her cover, but screw it, the damage had mostly been done. Besides, Ziggy had already forgotten his lesson and was staring directly at Elowen again, and somehow Tipsy didn’t think the grung would be able to distract the paladin with a well placed comment on his size.

“I haven’t had much luck with magic users myself.” Radan said, looking back to Elowen.

“You haven’t? We should swap stories one day.” Elowen said. Radan chuckled.

“Maybe. ’Say that as if we’re gonna see each other again.”

“Yes, well, you’ve been quite persistent in following me around.” Elowen folded his own arms, daring Radan to say something.

“Yeah. You’re big an’ shiny.” Radan tapped against the floor.

“Well…,” Elowen sighed, letting his arms relax to his sides, “I could use the help of someone who knows these parts well.”

That was exactly what Radan had wanted. They put their hands behind their head as they leaned even further back, grinning. “I sup’ose I could help out...for the right price, of course.”

“There’s always a price, isn’t there.” Elowen didn’t just sound tired, he sounded exhausted. “At this point, I’d be willing to do anything.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

Just when Elowen was about to speak again, the old man slammed his book against the desk. “Alright!,” he yelled, “Get out! This store is officially closed! All sales are final, and no returns!”

“Of course, sir-sorry for the trouble, we’ll head out immediately.” Elowen bowed, and began to shuffle Radan out the door. He tapped Tipsy and gave a gentle, yet firm, push towards the door, whipping around to Beetle and motioning for the bard and mime to come forth. Mysteriously, Jay was holding a weathered-looking book, with seemingly blank pages. Whether she paid for it or not, Tipsy didn’t know, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme with the halfling.

The walk back to the tavern was silent, aside from Ziggy occasionally making snide comments at passerbys. Actually, now that she thought about it, she was pretty sure Ziggy had been making snide comments the entire time during their trip to the bookstore-probably why the old man hated them so much, but Tipsy had quickly learned to tune Ziggy’s rants out. The sun had just began to set when they got out of the bookstore, and after they had pushed through all the gathered people, the stars were glittering high up above. It was a picture perfect night.

“Ah, Radan, hello!”

Just outside the tavern, Clover waved.

“I got your delivery done.” Radan said. Clover smiled.

“Thank you, thank you! Here, put your hand out.” Clover requested. After a moment of hesitation, Radan did so, and Clover quickly slapped not one but two gold coins into his hands. “For fast delivery.” She said, winking.

Radan gently took Clover’s hand, and kissed it.

“Awww, ever the gentlefaun,” Clover cooed, “I’m actually out to go and see the fireworks! You’re welcome to go back up for the night, but I highly recommend you see the fireworks. We’ve been saving up for a couple years now, some of the best in the kingdom, if I do say so myself.”

Jay was already hiding behind the inn door.

“Wait, actually, before you head off, did you happen to see a young man in a cloak with three guards?” Beetle waved his hands around to get Clover’s attention.

Clover laughed nervously. “I have no idea what you are talking about!”

Beetle puckered his lips and leaned in far too close for comfort to the innkeeper. “Clover, please, _let me know_.”

“Of course I will!” Clover promised. And then, much more quietly, with complete sincerity, “ _I will not._ Now go! Shoo! Enjoy the fireworks.”

She trotted away, disappearing into the crowd of excited townsfolk. Tipsy leaned against the front of the inn, eyes half closed, Ziggy hopping onto her shoulders and standing to full height to see against the crowd.

“Wanna watch?” She asked, as if there was any answer other than _‘yes of course I want to see stuff explode into colorful flames you stupid half-orc’_.

There was a light whistle in the distance, and after a moment of silence, an explosion of blue and yellow lit up the sky.

The crowd went nuts. People hooted and hollered as more and more fireworks went up, of all colors and enchantments. Reds, greens, yellows and whites, in so many different shapes. Starbursts, mini comets, strobing balls and little pearls that shot into the air one after another. Some fireworks would burst out and make little trails, spelling out different words-‘Long May Ironhaven Live’ and ‘Blessed is our Kingdom’, mostly. Sometimes, the fireworks would shoot up and make intricate illustrations, of knights fighting against demons, or the Ironhaven Family Crest. Tipsy’s favorites were the fireworks that shot up and spiraled outward, like drunken revelers.

She had never seen anything like it. Not even Ziggy said a word, and he always had a comment to say on everything. For a moment, the whole town-no, the whole world seemed transfixed on the fireworks display.

It was simply breathtaking.

But then there was the glow on the horizon.

It was subtle, at first. Just the vaguest hints of orange and red, easy to brush off and assume it was nothing more than the fireworks being lit. But then it started to get stronger, and stronger, until the smell of burnt smoke and burnt meat began to carry itself through the air, and it started to hurt to look outwards.

People were mumbling. People were talking in hushed tones. People were happy, then confused, then nervous.

In the distance, screaming began, and that was all it took for panic to take hold.

Kids were crying out, but lost in the rampaging crowd, their parents couldn’t find them. Tears, a fountain of tears, you could sail through the amount of tears springing forth from people’s disbelieving eyes. Tipsy was vaguely aware of Clover running past her and into the inn, peaking out behind the door alongside Jay.

In the distance, a lone towns guard, beaten and bruised, ran forward, frantically waving his hands in the air.

“The kobolds!,” he screamed, voice hoarse and desperate, “The kobolds are attacking!”

Tipsy and Ziggy stared at the inferno in front of them.

“Oh baby,” Ziggy said, “Look at THAT! I _wish_ I made that.”

It was then Tipsy realized her third mistake, which perhaps, in hindsight, was her first mistake.

Not taking the damn boat to Hammershire.


	2. Kobolds and Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the not-quite-a-party-yet has a Bad Time :'D

Tipsy’s eyes were burning into Ziggy, but he hardly noticed under the shadow of the flame. In the distance, distinctly vicious chattering; hooting and hollering, overpowering the screams of terror and shock from the citizens. A single thought kept repeating through her head, over and over again, like a an axe to the head.

_What in Nox’s blue fucking balls is going on?_

They were under attack, that was clear. But this was just some podunk city barely even acknowledged as a bump along the road. Why would anyone attack?

Tipsy heard the shifting of metal plates, and an extremely loud metal _shiiing_ as Elowen pulled out a ridiculously huge sword from its sheath.

“Run! Go! Evacuate the citizens!” He said breathlessly, charging forward. “I can handle them!”

Whoever they were, Tipsy wasn’t sure yet, only shadows on the horizon. She tried to move, but her feet were firmly stuck to the ground. Ziggy, entirely ignoring her peril, sharp teeth glistening as he grinned so wide Tipsy thought his jaw might break. He rubbed his hands together, breathing heavily and licking his lips.

“I would never run away from such a magnificent fire,” Ziggy said, in utter awe, “I gotta get me some of that.”

“We can’t just leave you alone.” Tipsy added, to at least try and make Ziggy sound less crazed, though her voice was so low and trembling she doubted Elowen could hear her. Besides, the knight was already running forward, looking as determined as a fennec fox chasing a scorpion shrew down for dinner. She thought about running back to the inn, but oh fuck where was Ziggy.

“I gotta check this out!” Ziggy called back as he chased after Elowen, as fast as his little legs could carry hm, “Come on, travel slave!”

_Follow him-go to the inn-follow him-go to the inn-you don’t really know him if he wants to die let him-you can’t just let him die he’s so stupid he’ll go down in one hit-he treats you like shit-he’s the only person you’ve been able to call friend in years-friend? He calls you his travel slave-Yeah and he’s the only person who recognizes you for the garbage that you-_

Tipsy ran forward.

Kobolds, she realized as she looked forward, those were _definitely_ kobolds. There were at least five of them, brown and red scales glistening, mouths curved into crooked smiles and eyes glinting in the flames. Leading the charge was a much taller, more muscular kobold, easily double the height of the others (though, since kobolds weren’t even as tall as halflings, that wasn’t saying much), wearing chainmail and wielding a suspiciously rusty morning star.

A fucking morning star. Who the fuck used an actual morning star?

In the other hand, a torch. And when the giant kobold locked eyes with Elowen, his snout turned up in a cold grin. In one fast motion, the entire band of kobolds through their torches are far as they could.

Appearing from nowhere, Radan stood near Elowen, the two staring down at the band of kobolds. “The hell are you doin’?!” Radan screamed, waving their hands around.

The giant kobold flipped him off, held up its morning star, and began to spin it around.

The giant kobold screeched something in draconic that Tipsy presumed meant _charge_.

_Oh gods oh gods I’m going to die oh gods oh gods why me why me why me_

Tipsy stepped in front of Ziggy, armed outstretched as if that would do a damn thing. Ziggy hissed, snarling, but raised no protest to her protection when he finally realized the band of kobolds were barreling towards them.

Or flying towards them, in the case of the two winged kobolds. One of them zipped over to Beetle, just a few feet away and still staring at the scene unfolding, mouth in an ill fitting grimace. The tabaxi had no time to react before a giant rock collided against his chest as the kobold let out a high pitched giggle, making him stumble back. Even as he gracefully landed against the pavement next to Tipsy and Ziggy, Tipsy could see the blood trickling down his shirt, his pupils turned to slits.

_On High, these motherfuckers aren’t messAHH!_

Something big, cold, and jagged hit her head. Tipsy fell back first against the ground, landing with a dull thud, groaning.

“Tehehehe! Die! Die! Die!” The other winged kobold cackled. If she hurried, she could grab them, toss them to the ground and _beat them beat the shit out of them_ but her eyelids fluttered down, and all Tipsy could do was groan.

In the distance, a nasally voice gasped. “No! Travel slave! Hurry up, you’re not allowed to fall!”

_Gods be damned,_ Tipsy gritted her teeth, _Ziggy, just leave me._

A swift kick in the ribs proved the grung would not leave her. With a grunt, she forced herself up. No running now, whether she liked it or not, the kobolds were going to target her.

Ahead, already on the offense, Elowen swung his great sword at the giant kobold. It easily dodged him, surprisingly nimble despite being built like a brick shithouse, and the sword lodged itself into a long abandoned market stall, knocking over a few half filled drinks.

Clearly surprised, Elowen immediately jerked himself back, sword flying out of the stall and destroying it entirely. He looked at the kobold, stiff, hands curled into fists. A universal gesture, really, that seemed to say _Oh, it is_ _ON_ _._

“We-we have to-” Tipsy began, not even sure where she was going with that sentence before a wave of strange energy emitted from the inn. She initially feared a magical blast, pushing Ziggy behind her despite his complaints, before noticing as all the small fires-the torches, especially-were snuffed out in seconds.

She swore she saw the shadow of Jay slam the door shut at the inn.

The winged kobold, the one that hit her, seemed surprised and confused by the sudden lack of embers. It was this distraction that let Beetle to grin, hold ups his hands and-

**BOOM!**

Ziggy screamed, clutching his head. Tipsy hissed, a sudden noise shattering her eardrums and making her head ring. Radan nearly lost his balance, still looking around at the chaos, hissing.

There was a thump, and the winged kobold that had hit her fell to the ground, dead as soon as it made contact with the cobblestone, the other winged one flying super low to the ground and curled into itself. Tipsy barely avoided keeling over a second time, heart feeling like dead weight in her chest. Radan wasn’t looking great either, long ears folded down in a vain attempt to block out any outside noise.

It was Ziggy who had it the worse. The little grung was quivering, drool coming out of his mouth and eyes bloodshot.

“You-you-” Ziggy sputtered, spinning to face Beetle.

Ziggy took a deep breath.

“I am going to burn your ass, right here right now.”

His fingertips began to burn.

“ _I will smite you.”_

Tipsy was smart enough to take a step back.

“HIIIIII-YEEAAHHHH!”

As Ziggy screamed, Tipsy found enough strength to horsely whisper to the tabaxi, “ **Duck**.”

Beetle, after the slightest moment of debate, dove to the side.

Flames shot out of Ziggy’s fingertips, as if that was an entirely natural thing he could do and not a terrifying spell Tipsy didn’t even realize he had the power to cast. Three white hot tendrils licked the air, just barely scorching Beetle’s collar but otherwise leaving the tabaxi in surprisingly decent shape. It would have been a beautiful sight to behold, really, it could’ve fit right in with the fireworks show, if Tipsy didn’t know the one controlling them was an immensely pissed off Ziggy.

The flying kobold had no chance. It was burnt to a damn crisp, skin boiling, no time to even scream before it collapsed to the ground, smashing its head and flopping over. The thing couldn’t be more dead if it tried.

Across the battlefield, because Tipsy supposed that’s what it was now, a kobold by the market stand just barely got out of the way before the market stand caught on fire. A third kobold did get scorched, screaming as their arm burst into flames, before quickly grabbing its torch, relighting it, and then patting out the rest of the flames.

“Smart man, that kobold,” Ziggy nodded, huffing, biting his lip, “Smart maaaan.”

He turned to Tipsy.

“Did I do a good job?”

She nodded.

Somewhere amidst the flames, Ziggy saw Radan narrowly dodge a dagger. Radan grunted, and headbutted the attacking kobold, sending it spiraling back and knocking it into Elowen, who swiftly struck it with his sword.

Something in Radan’s hand clicked. They leapt back, throwing his arm behind him before swinging it forward, some kind of small, round object flying forward.

“Hmm, the cow has more taste than I thought!” Ziggy said.

It landed in the hands of the kobold that Radan headbutted.

“Huh?” The kobold tilted its head to the side, about a second before the ball exploded. They screamed, metal shards going through its skin like a million tiny arrows. It was alive, if just barely. he kobold next to the unfortunate explosion victim had managed to jump back, just barely, though a few shards still hit it in the arm, making it wince. The giant kobold, with their back to the explosion, cried out in pain as shrapnel embedded itself into their back, inadvertently protecting Elowen from the blast.

With so much death and destruction around her, Tipsy had to do something.

So she did.

She grabbed the rock, the rock that winged fucker had used to hit her, on the head, fucking asshole, and threw it as hard as she could to the woozy, charred kobold.

It went down in seconds.

“See? You are my battle slave!” Ziggy cheered. Tipsy did not share his enthusiasm, unable to do much more at the moment then stare at the battle unfolding. She really was useless, huh.

There was a cry of pain as some kind of projectile slapped against Radan. Elowen reached his hand out to try and steady the faun, but this distracted him from the giant kobold, who swung its morning star right into Elowen’s exposed chest, making a horrible metallic sound as it scrapped against steel and gold.

Elowen grunted, forced backwards. The giant kobold grinned, tongue flickering, illuminated by the ever growing fireball consuming the town.

The giant kobold made some kind of horrible, guttural sound, and three more kobolds approached from far away. All with wicked grins and cold eyes, they held up their burning torches, and tossed them so hard at the Marigold Inn that they broke through the windows.

Tipsy heard a scream. Clover’s scream. A wave of nausea fell over Tipsy, and she bit her tongue so hard it began to bleed.

_Spirit of Gruumsh, please let us win. Or-or at least don’t let th_ _e good ones_ _die._

She began to turn to the inn. Clearly, she wasn’t much use here, but if she could find some way to put the fire out at the inn, at least Clover and Jay would be okay.

The flames licked the building, terribly close to the stained glass, the kobolds hooting and hollering. But then the wind shifted, and some of the flames began to spin. They twisted, binding together like fine wool into yarn, moving like waves in an unnaturally natural fashion to form something. Something big, something very scary, and something that made the three new kobolds freeze in their tracks.

“Dragon!” One screamed.

Somehow, the flames had twisted themselves into a terrifyingly accurate visage of an actual, honest to the gods dragon. It roared, flames leaping out of its mouth, before, like a tsunami of pain, it rushed at the three kobolds.

Tipsy would’ve felt bad for them if her head didn’t feel like it too was on fire.

Two of the kobolds evaded the blaze, but one unlucky bastard took the full brunt. They screamed, falling to the ground, slamming their half-exposed foot against the ground to try and put out the flames still on them.

Okay, maybe the inn was just fine, and could handle itself.

The hairs stood up on her neck. Tipsy looked back, stuck in her spot, only having the sense of mind to step between where she was pretty sure Ziggy was as the kobold collapsed onto the ground, a knife stuck in its back.

What?

Beetle purred as he yanked his dagger out of the back of the dead kobold, eyes narrowed. He didn’t make any kind of snarky one liner as the kobold twitched, thank the gods, just gave a curt nod at Tipsy and said, “Duck.”

She did.

A rock flew past her head.

“Th-thanks?” Tipsy chocked.

In either spite or frustration, the kobold that had been hit by the flames tossed its torch right back into the Marigold, snarling. Tipsy heard a gasp, maybe hers, maybe not. Her hand curled into a fist, her breaths became short and erratic, and Tipsy had enough.

“You fucking bastard!” She screamed, charging.

It tried to evade her attack, but she was angry, she was tired, and every bone in her body ached as Tipsy swung her quarter staff against the kobold’s head with a sickening crack.

There was no time for even a scream as the kobold fell. It was dead before it even knew it.

“Ziggy?” Tipsy called quietly. And then, a little louder, “Ziggy?”

Ziggy was standing, focusing on something, eyes closed and muttering something to himself. Tipsy rushed over, worried that any kobold with a quarter of a brain would take advantage of him, but as she made it back, Ziggy exhaled.

“FIRE SLAVE, I SUMMON YOU!” Ziggy screamed.

Three kobolds still near the inn screeched as flames jutted out from the ground. Literally, just from nowhere, one second there was nothing and the next there was fire. The fire swirled itself into a shape, like the dragon, if smaller. Much smaller. In fact, looking at it, it had formed itself into…

A squirrel?

Giddily, Ziggy jumped up and down, ignoring his own hisses of pain as he did so. “It worked! Fireball actually came!”

“ _Fireball_?” Tipsy asked, slowly.

“My fire slave, duh! Come here, ya big fuzzy ember!” Ziggy held his arms wide open, as if the squirrel made of fire could just jump right in and snuggle him.

Tipsy gingerly grabbed his hands and made him lower his arms.

“Fire slave, use flame send!” Ziggy yelled.

The squirrel-Fireball, she guessed-looked around with big old eyes, then a row of flames sputtered out. The kobold closet to the fiery sprit narrowly dodged the next round of fire, screaming. Satisfied with its work, Fireball happily skittered away to Ziggy. Tipsy looked between Fireball, Ziggy, and the kobolds, unable to even think of something to say. What could she say?

“What the fuck was that?” Tipsy sputtered.

“My fire slave, I told you.” Ziggy responded sharply. Tipsy groaned.

“No, no, all that...fire magic bullshit. I didn’t think you could actually do all that.” Tipsy said, swaying side to side. She was sure a light breeze could knock her over at this point.

“Wha-you mean to tell me you thought the great and powerful Ziggy was lying!?” Ziggy gasped, slapping a hand against his chest. Fireball made some kind of weird chirping noise, and Ziggy nodded. “Yeah, you tell ‘er fire slave.”

There was a yell. A deep, powerful yell, all from within, as loud as it could possibly be. Tipsy tensed as she saw the giant kobold, spinning its morning star around rapidly. Tipsy heard multiple other screams, but not of the townsfolk-no, these were too shrill and too tainted with cruelty to be from anyone other than the attacking kobolds.

The pattering of kobold feet, and the creak of a cart.

A single kobold, much smaller and skinnier than the rest, ran forward with what appeared to be world’s largest pull cart. Multiple kobolds, both the ones around and others deeper in Belimar, began to run forward, piling their loot. They had everything, and the cart must have been enchanted in some way because no matter what the kobolds put in there-giant slabs of beef, ruined jewelry, coins ripped straight out of people’s hands, and as Tipsy watched, she realized, they were putting the dead, the dead citizens of Belimar into the cart.

And based on the way one of the dead just groaned, some of them may not have been so dead.

She felt sick, but bit it down. No more hiding or crying, she needed to do something. Better she go down than someone else.

“Ziggy?” Tipsy blindly reached a hand behind her, “Ziggy, you need to hide, you’re hurt.”

No response, not even a snarky one liner.

“Ziggy?”

Ziggy was gone.

Panic flared through Tipsy like the fires consuming the inn. She looked around, but Ziggy was nowhere to be seen. Had he just disappeared? How had he managed to go unnoticed with a fucking fire spirt?

Unable to find the grung, Tipsy looked back at the cart. The giant kobold and his underlings were running after the cart, cackling all the while they ran, weapons bobbing up and down in a strange, celebratory manor. Had Ziggy been taken, or had he sped off to safety?

“I will NOT allow you to leave!”

Her eyes refocused on Elowen, who was utterly enraged.

Elowen seemed to glow, and not just from the fire reflecting off his armor, he seemed to legitimately, actually glow. He raised his great sword up, the sword shining with light from deep within, and charged.

The giant kobold, just about to hop onto the top of the cart, screeched as the sword made contact with his back. Just looking at the scene made Tipsy wince; Elowen was so infuriated in a way Tipsy didn’t think the paladin could be, screaming as he sliced at the kobold over and over. It grimaced as chainmail scattered across the ground, blood pooling by his feet, but, somehow, was still standing. One of the smaller kobolds grabbed their leader, and dragged him back, trying to rush the giant kobold forward but weighed down by his sheer mass compared to their tiny self. Elowen gave chase, of course, but he was clearly exhausted from whatever magic he summoned to strike the kobold, and Tipsy doubted he would be able to catch up with why was there a goat.

Why was the goat the size of a bear.

Why was there a goat?

“Get ‘em, boy!” Radan yelled from many feet away.

“BAAAAH!”

The giant goat charged forward with the ferocity of a fire gensai after downing three pints. It rammed itself right into the giant kobold, the ball of fluff knocking the kobold clean of its feet. The giant kobold fell to the ground, groaning, bits of chainmail scattering every which way. The goat, satisfied with its work, began chewing on the giant kobold’s leg.

In the distance, Radan whooped, and pumped their fist.

While the smaller kobolds looked at their leader in worry, they decided to leave the giant kobold to his goat-ridden fate, and began to run off with the cart. Elowen had been running over, but a kobold leapt onto his back, forcing the paladin to stop and fight it off.

Somewhere ahead, Tipsy heard Ziggy scream, “They’re getting away!”

It was only seconds later when she finally saw Ziggy, who had, someone, managed to make it all the way to mere inches away from the injured, moaning giant kobold. Fireball was next to him, chittering in an encouraging manner as Ziggy’s fingertips lit on fire.

If Tipsy was a better person, she would have scream _‘No Ziggy, you might hit the people in the cart.’_ If she was a better person, she would have found the speed to run and grab Ziggy, or talk him down and redirect his attack to the kobold unlucky enough to still be standing. Maybe she could have seen if the grung was able to control the flames spiraling out of control around him, and snuff them out like Jay had in the inn.

But Tipsy was too tired and too weak, and could only sputter as columns of flames shot out of Ziggy’s hands.

One of the kobolds fleeing with the cart was hit. Just one, screaming in agony as flames consumed his body, until he was little more than a charred corpse. But that kobold had been on top of the cart, and as he fell over, the cart, with the people, with the people who were still alive, burst into flames.

There was screaming, and this time, not from the kobolds.

“NO!” Someone yelled in horror. Elowen, Tipsy thought, though her ears were ringing and she she could barely focus.

What the fuck did Ziggy just do? It wasn’t her fault, Tipsy tried to assure herself, bristling, but by the gods there were still people in the cart. Her hands gripped her quarter staff until she was sure it would break; could she have been able to do a running throw at the cart, and jammed the wheels? Some part of her tried to reason, _What else could he have done? There was no way to catch up with the cart, not this far away, it was either try to blast them or let them escape,_ But as the cart kept moving forward, further and further into the distance, the kobolds showing no sign of stopping at the cart burned, Tipsy realized that it may have been all for nothing.

Ziggy turned behind him, and grinned maniacally.

“Flame send!” He yelled, pointing at the barely conscious giant kobold.

Fireball looked between the giant goat, the giant kobold, the giant goat again, and then sneezed out a jet of fire at the goat.

The goat was now in fire.

“Good boy, Fireball, excellent work!” Ziggy cackled, patting the squirrel on the head and somehow not burning his hand.

Tipsy heard a very sharp “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” from Radan as they rubbed their temples.

Ziggy took a deep breath, turned around, and flailed his arms around. “Travel slave, help me retreat!” He yelled.

Legs feeling like gelatin, Tipsy stumbled on over, and Ziggy leapt into her arms, hugging her way too tightly, before suddenly relaxing. Fireball also tried to hop on, but a swift kick from Tipsy put an end too the spirit’s attempt, as well as to its existence as it snuffed out in a puff of smoke.

_Oops_ , Tipsy grimaced. Best not let Ziggy realize his supposedly beloved fire slave was gone. Not that it mattered, Tipsy realized, as Ziggy began to snore.

“You know,” Radan kicked a rock away with their hoof, “In my experience, this is the part where you pack and leave town, and don’t tell anyone about what ‘appened.”

Who they were talking to, Tipsy had no idea.

“Goat, go finish ‘em off.” Radan cupped their hands together and yelled. The goat gave a curt nod, still on fire but completely unbothered by this, and leapt right on top of the giant kobold’s just, just as the beast was trying to stand. Little hooves thudded against the gaping wounds of the giant kobold, and like a true warrior, the giant goat was relentless in its attack, refusing to cease for even a second.

After a minute or so of kicking and flailing, the giant kobold finally, finally stopped moving. The leader was dead.

Elowen hissed as he threw a dead kobold to the ground. He screamed as he barreled forward, desperately chasing after the cart, but his movements were slow, and even as he yelled, screamed, cursed the kobolds to look at him, leave the citizens alone, they paid him no heed. Even with the cart still smoldering, the kobolds simply continued to run. But with a burst of speed, Elowen began to catch up. He was running faster and faster, letting fury power hm through the rubble. Just as Tipsy thought he may have a chance at catching up-

A rock hit him in the small of his back, and Elowen fell.

Kobolds cackled as they jumped on Elowen, up and down, before skittering off to the cart and the two kobolds pushing it. A good twenty of them, at least, now all pushing the cart, jointed by even more with smaller carts and piles of stolen goods, and they veered off into the distance.

Eventually, when the cart was barely a dot on the horizon, Elowen stood.

Wind whistled through the square. Tipsy looked around, the town in utter ruins. The inn, somehow, remained standing, an absolute miracle considering the fires it endured.

Little by little, the townsfolk came out, quivering. Some of the bolder ones amongst them grabbed buckets of water and splashed them around, running to and fro from the fountain. Tipsy staggered towards the fountain, Ziggy completely unresponsive, though his eyes were open now.

“Let’s just...get some water, yeah?” Tipsy mumbled. If Ziiggy did respond, she didn’t hear him, dropping the grung into the fountain with a splash.

He floated in the shallow water, arms splayed, staring at the sky. And Tipsy allowed herself to fall in, back against the cold pedestal holding up the second level of the fountain, a light stream of water running down her face and back. She got an odd stare, but a glare quickly shut up any complaints the villagers may have had about her dirtying up their water supply. From the burn remains of the inn, Jay and Clover walked out, both shaking.

“Hey-hey, Jay? Right?,” Tipsy called. Jay looked over, eyes wide and face paint totally ruined. “You made that dragon thing, right?”

  
She nodded.

“Good-good job,” Tipsy’s head flopped to the side, “Good job.”

There was no response.

Clover looked over the inn. Though the fires had been put out, it was in horrible shape, one of the walls almost entirely gone and so much destroyed. The only thing left untouched was the stained glass; even the sign was burn to ash, words no longer readable. Clover’s lip quivered, and the innkeeper put her head down.

Radan approached, putting a gentle hand on her should. “I’m so sorry.” They said, and they really meant it.

Clover put her head down. “Oh, it’s...okay. It’s been in the family for generations, you know, siince my great-great-great grandpapa, it’s just, you know, a little disheartening to...”

The sign fell off, crashing into the ground and splintering into a thousand little pieces.

“See it like this. But, you know, it will take some to rebuild, but I’m sure everything will be okay. It-it has to be...” Clover sighed, tears falling down her cheeks. Radan pulled her into a side hug that the innkeeper only half-acknowledged. She sniffed and wiped a few tears away.

“If you ev’r need anything, I’m here for you.” Radan said firmly.

Clover attempted to smile, though she didn’t look happy. “Thank you,” she replied in a shaky voice, “That is very kind. Uh-good job fighting everyone! You killed a number of our assailants, you did a very good job!”

“It was NOT a good job.” Came the immensely harsh reply. Elowen had gotten up, looking at the ground, an empty bucket in one hand and his sword in the other. He looked like he wanted to destroy something, or maybe someone, but there was nothing around for him to attack, just hurt villagers and travelers who came for the festival.

Oh, right. The festival.

A soft hiss came from the right. Tipsy looked over, almost immediately tensing as a lone kobold, clutching a knife and half his scales burnt off, stood like a statue.

Looking at the kobold, Clover froze. When she realized the kobold wasn’t, maybe even couldn’t move, she grinned, and snarled “Fuck you!” as she flipped it off. She didn’t get the chance to say much more before Jay sped up, walking over to the kobold, swinging her arm back as far as she could. With surprising strength, Jay slapped the kobold. He screeched, hitting pavement, tongue lolling out of his head as his breaths got short and heavy. Amazingly, the kobold was still alive, though it was totally knocked out and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

Her work finished, Jay collapsed to her knees.

“Haha, nice work!” Clover said, a genuine smile back on her face. Jay gave no response, just continued to stare at the smoldering rubble around her. After a second of confused waiting, clover shook her head and turned back to Radan. She gave a curt nod, and walked back towards the half-destroyed inn. She briefly yelled something-Tipsy couldn’t discern what-and then disappeared inside.

Some villagers got to work ensuring the last of the fires were put out, until only ash remained in the air. Others began to sweep rubble off the streets, carefully preserving what they could and piling what they couldn’t by the ruined streets. People whispered in hushed tones, staring at Elowen assisted, but saying nothing to the paladin, simply continuing their various tasks to try and make the city look less like a charred husk.

“I guess you had no choice but setting the cart on fire.” Tipsy mumbled.

Ziggy said nothing.

“Even-even if it didn’t work, I mean, the kobolds still got away...I don’t know what I would have done if I had that kind of weird fire magic...guess I could have thrown my quarterstaff, huh.”

Ziggy continued to say nothing.

“I should’ve done more. If I had done a running start I’m sure I would have been able to lodge my staff into the wheels. I mean, it’s just a cheap piece of shit, nothing special about it, it didn’t even cost any silver, could have just...tossed it in and broken the wheel. Then you wouldn’t of even had to light up the cart.”

Not a word.

“You didn’t even mean to set the cart on fire, I know you didn’t. I guess you don’t care either way, but you were just trying to stop the kobolds. It didn’t work, but it was a good attempt. You tried, you know?”

Nothing.

“You tried, that that’s what counts.”

“Somebody ‘elp!” Clover cried from the inn, “We need help!”

By the time Tipsy had a slow moving hand around Ziggy’s ankle, the grung still snoring despite his eyes wide open, Elowen had already bolted into the inn. Realizing that she was soaking wet and so very tired, Tipsy instead adjusted her position to see as well into the inn as she possibly could.

There looked to be some kind of commotion going on inside. She saw Elowen, Clover, and a sliver of Radan bent over the same fallen pillar, one of the beams from the ceiling. With the paladin now assisting, the pillar lifted with ease, the group moving it to the side. Underneath, Tipsy heard groaning, then a sudden round of scratchy coughs as a figure in a blue cloak sat up.

Elowen patted the figure’s back with his hand, causing another round of coughing.

“Mate, are you alright?,” Radan asked, “Need me to get you some wa’er or somethin’?”

It took a moment for the cloaked figure to get his coughs under control. “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” He said in a harsh voice, sounding very strained. While Elowen blocked part of the view, Tipsy could see the man pull his hood down to reveal light brown skin and stoney gray eyes, his right leg splayed in an unnaturally bent position that had to be painful.

_The guard from the carriage_ , Tipsy realized suddenly.

It seemed Radan realized that as well, though Tipsy didn’t recall them being near the carriage when Beetle tried to flirt with the occupants. “Oh-you know, I’m, I’m just gonna go get your water.” Radan said quickly, and high tailed it out of there.

The man narrowed his eyes at Radan, equally confused by the reaction as Clover and Elowen were, but could only continue to hack up his lungs.

Elowen knelt besides the man. “Are you alright?” He asked, continuing to tap his back.

The man briefly flinched, not out of fear but more so from either annoyance or shame, and held his hand up. “Thank you, I’m good, thanks.” He said, and attempted to stand. That was clearly the wrong move, as the man yelped in pain and clutched his splayed and injured leg.

“Clover, do we have anything we could wrap this man’s leg with?” Elowen asked with worry.

“Oh, yes, let me go to my office.” Clover nodded, and scampered off, up rickety stairs.

Surveying the damage, the man tapped his good foot against the ground. “What the fuck happened?”

“There was a kobold attack.” Elowen said, no longer looking at the man but at the damage surrounding them. “We were...not as successful as I had hoped in stopping it.”

“Well, from the sounds of it, they’re gone for now.” The man leaned against a pillar behind him, and closed his eyes. With a moment of concentration, he attempted to stand up again, though the cry he gave showed his efforts were in vain.

“Please, you’re hurt, sit down-” Elowen started, but the man shook his head around furiously.

“No, no, I need to go, I have to go.” The man tried to hoist himself up, but nothing worked. Elowen put a firm hand on his shoulder this time, and all but forced the man back down.

“Sit down,” Elowen said again, much more firm in tone, “If you have anywhere to go, you won’t be able to get there until that leg is bandaged.”

“No, you don’t-,” The man paused and exhaled sharply, “My friend, my friend, he’s upstairs, I need to go check-will you go check for me?”

“Of course,” Elowen nodded, “Just tell me what room he’s in.”

The man shuffled through his cloak pockets, pulling out a large and unusually ornate key, patina’d from time. “Here-please hurry.”

Elowen darted up the stairs, disappearing from view. Tipsy leaned her head back a little, trying to see any hints of shadows from the upstairs windows. With all the shattered glass, deep shadows, and ash floating around in the air, all Tipsy could make out was the briefest glimmer of Elowen as he walked down a hall. She heard very faint shuffling, Elowen’s muffled calls for someone to answer him, please, _answer him_ , but only the breeze responded to his pleas. Radan shuffled forward with a glass of water while Clover carefully wrapped the man’s leg.

“...Sounds to me like you were here with someone important.” Radan said as the man greedily gulped down the entire glass.

“Whoever they were,” Elowen came back into view, “They’re not here anymore.”

“N-not here anymore!?,” the man sputtered and began to cough again, “What do you mean, not here anymore?”

“The room’s been ransacked. All that’s left is a suit.” Elowen leaned against a nearby table flipped onto its side, hands digging into the charred wood. The man grunted, attempted to stand, fell one last time, and slammed his fist into the ground.

He cleared his throat. “Well-yes, to answer your question, I was traveling with someone important, someone very important. I’m not saying anything more. Who are you, by the way?”

“Me?” Elowen cocked his head to the side.

The man grunted, annoyed. “Yes, you.”

Elowen gave a small bow. “I am Elowen von Iris, of Hammershire.”

“I’m Rowan Kantor, I’m a guard, from-from Graymouth. I was sent here with my...friend, to attend some business here while we were in town.” The man said, voice heavy. He was a bad liar, but Elowen didn’t push him, which the man seemed grateful for. “And then it just...gods, it all went to shit.”

“Would the kobolds have had a reason to target your friend?” Elowen asked.

“Awfully confident the kobolds took him, aren’t you.” Rowan replied bitterly, but shook his head. “Wouldn’t know anyways, I’m not from this area.”

Clover piped up. “Well, they usually like to ransack the silos and steal food, but nothing of this magnitude before. I’ve never seen so many in one place, they usually roam in bands of...ten at most.”

“They’re organized. Somebody is controlling them,” Elowen said in a bitter tone, “They have a goal.”

“Of course-I didn’t even know they could be that smart! I mean, I know I’m pretty dumb-” Clover gave an obnoxious wink and nudged Radan, “But those kobolds….whew!”

The only person who laughed was Tipsy, and it came out more like a dying wheeze.

“...Ahahaha, right, right.” Clover coughed and went back wrapping Rowan’s leg. Elowen sighed so loud half the town heard him, gauntlet digging deep holes into the table he leaned against. He’d probably break it, soon, if he kept that pressure up. Radan simply stood there, flipping tables back onto their proper side but keeping an eye on Rowan. They clearly knew the guard, somehow, and…

Ah, fuck. What was the bard doing.

“Oh, hello!” Beetle purred, cocking his hips to side and winking.

Rowan’s face went sour fast. “You again!” He spat, barring his teeth.

Beetle put a hand to his chest. “Awww, you remember me!”

“Of course I fuckin’ remember you.” Rowan was clearly unhappy, attempting to shimmy away from the bard, but Beetle was faster and didn’t have any broken limbs. Beetle put a single hand on Rowan’s shoulder, squeezing it gently and licking his lips. Well, if there was one thing you couldn’t say about Beetle, it was that he wasn’t persistent.

“Trust me when I say I’m flattered. What did you say your name was? Rowan? I didn’t catch it last time.” Beetle said, and in flagrant disregard for Rowan, began to rub against the man’s shoulders.

Elowen growled. Honest to the gods, actually growled. “Blue Beetle,” He said, “ **Enough**. Now is not the time.”

With a single hand, Elowen grabbed Beetle by the collar and dragged him back. While he shot a nasty look at the paladin, Elowen hardly ruined Beetle’s stride. If anything, this only encouraged him, as he winked again, this time at Elowen.

“It’s always the time.” Beetle snapped back, glaring just a touch at Elowen.

Clover clapped her hands together, and stood up. “Alright, that does it!” She sighed, and brushed the dirt off her knees and apron, “Well...this is a little bit of a shit, aint it? What’s next...what are we...um, are you going to go after the kobolds, or stay in town?”

Elowen was quick to answer. “We have to go after them. They’re heading towards Graymouth-or,” he motioned towards Rowan, “You two were at least.”

“Don’t think that’s any of our business at this point.” Radan replied, arms folded against their chest.

“It doesn’t matter, if they’re going anywhere I’m following them.” Elowen shot a glance at Radan; a warning or a glare, Tipsy couldn’t tell. “We should at least check for tracks.”

She didn’t notice the stranger walking by at first, as townsfolk fluttered around trying to clean the decimated town up, but a finely dressed older man with dark brown skin and long braids pulled into a low ponytail walked ever closer to the inn. He paused, looked at Tipsy with an eyebrow raised, glanced over at Jay, blinked, and walked inside, head held high, though his expression was quite grim.

While it was getting a bit hard to see with all the people in the inn, the new man walked over to Clover.

“Clover, are you alright?” The man asked.

“Oh-yes, Bran, I’m fine, thank you very much-it could have been a lot worse,” Clover replied in a tone that seemed to convey _could have been a lot better too_ , “How’s the rest of the town.”

Bran sighed wearily, and shook his head. “Lot of good people lost tonight. Most of our food supply is gone. Several villagers are missing, many more so…dead. It’s...not looking good.” Bran looked at Beetle, Radan, and Elowen. “Were you three some of the ones who stopped the kobolds?”

“Not nearly enough.”

Wood splintered and cracked in Elowen’s grip.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry,” Elowen said, voice cracking and breath hitched, “I should have been able to stop more of them, I’m-I’m sorry I failed this town, I-I should have done more.”

Bran merely nodded in pitied understanding. “Well, you six-”

He gestured outside.

“You have all done us a great service. You saved at least a couple dozen villagers from being kidnapped by the kobolds or far worse. They attacked all throughout town, but at least the damage to our central square has been minimized. Of course, this is all...oh, of course, I should have introduced myself. I am Bran Dellaney, Lawmaster of Belimar. I oversee the….well, the laws, as well as the town guard. Um...”

Bran again looked over, and leaned out of the doorway.

“Hey, you three.” He gave a small hand gesture, one that, somewhere in Tipsy’s melted brain, she recognized as a signal to come in.

Tipsy didn’t say a word to Ziggy, and he said nothing back to her as she grabbed his soaking foot and stood up. She swayed for a second, almost falling over, before lashing a hand out and catching herself against the edge of the fountain. Sighing, Tipsy stumbled towards the inn. While she motioned for Jay to come, she didn’t bother to check and see if the halfling was following, and stepped into the inn. Bran was still looking out, staring at Jay, but made no more attempts to get her inside.

“Yeah, I’m not touching that.” Bran said as he turned to the almost assembled group. He cleared his throat-“Please, sit.”

Tipsy plopped her ass on the ground. Ziggy gave a small snort, then opened one eye.

“Wuh-huh?” Ziggy looked around, eyes narrowed.

“You have all done a great service to Belimar. We are forever in your debt. First of all, the town will pay for all your lodging here on out, so please feel free to stay here for the knight. While our healers are quite busy right now, of course, we will do everything we can to fix your injuries. And….” Bran leaned in closer. “I would like to propose something to you as well.”

Bran took a deep breath, trying to keep an even tone but clearly outraged.

“As you saw, kobolds attacked all across our city, and hauled off our supplies, our possessions, and...our people. I personally cannot watch this anymore. It’s just maddening how-how those kobolds were able to attack so-so calculated. And-and I cannot help but feel personally responsible, we got intel that a band of kobolds were by the barns, but I was already stretched so thin with the festival I wasn’t thinking and sent a good group of our guards out to investigate. By the time they came back, with nothing found of course, it was already too late. And I-I would like to make it up to the citizens of Belimar, and offer you a...reward of sorts, if-if you’re willing of course. For bringing back our citizens, no matter their condition, and destroying what bands of kobolds that may have hidden nearby.”

The law master reached into the satchel on his belt, and pulled out a few glittering gold coins.

“Each of you would earn great fortune for this mission. For information on why and how this happened, one hundred gold coin each. Ten gold for every kobold ear you bring back, and fifteen for every villager you bring back, alive or...passed. We want to be able to give them a proper burial. I’m sure their families would appreciate it.”

Ziggy slapped a hand against the floor. Still on his head, one leg flopped over, he yet again demanded the room’s attention.

“So,” Ziggy pursed his lack-of-lips, “You want us, _all_ of us to work together?”

It definitely seemed like an impossible proposition, at least in Tipsy’s mind.

“I will do this for no payment,” Elowen said, “It’s my fault so many innocents were taken from this village, I will find them and return them home.”

“I’ll take his pay.” Beetle cut in.

This seemed to make Bran smile, if just a bit. “Fine by me,” he said, “You all were able to take on so many kobolds, it was quite incredible really...but, yes, one hundred gold each plus ten for every kobold ear and fifteen for every returned villager, these are my terms. We’ll supply you lot with a cart, of course, and bring you what you need in moderation.”

“What you are giving me is more than enough.” Elowen assured him, still tense. “Is there anymore information you can give me on the kobolds?”

Bran shook his head. “No, I’m as surprised as you are. The kobolds only roam in small bands, I didn’t think so many even existed out in our little corner of the countryside, must have been dozens of them...”

Ziggy flopped onto his side, head resting against his hand, looking like a fancy princess draped against a lounge chaise. “Would you say that taking on such a quest would garner one...oh, I dunno, I’m not really from around here, but say...renowned fame, such of which would, maybe, spread across the land? Would we become legendary heroes, and have people recognize our names?”

Tipsy wanted to mouth _Say no_. But she also wanted to mouth _Yes, he’s serious_.

What it came out as was _Say yes_.

“Erm…,” Bran grimaced slightly, “Well, the entire city of Belimar would have eternal gratitude to you, and I’m sure word of your good deeds would spread across the land. Uh, depends on what you bring back, I’d suppose.”

“Huh.”

Ziggy leapt into the air, landed on two feet, and confidently licked his eyeball.

“Well, I suppose a start’s a start. I’ll do it!”

The words rolled off her tongue before she could stop herself. “Are you fucking serious, mate?”

“I have never been more serious in my entire life,” Ziggy spun around and prodded a finger into Tipsy’s chest, “I am going to become a hero, goddammit!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Tipsy stared into the void. Well, she could run, that was always an option. Run back to the monastery with her tail between her legs, lie between her teeth that she didn’t find the destiny waiting for her, and go back to partying with Master Akdov and Brother Martin. But Ziggy, bless him, was a firecracker, and in the hands of total strangers, would absolutely blow.

Master Akdov would never let her hear the end of it.

“I guess I have to come as well,” Tipsy slurred, unsure whether she was even intelligible at this point, “Otherwise you’ll just kill everyone...”

Bran made a face.

“ _Don’t ask.”_ Tipsy half whispered.

“...Right, well, at least three are on board.” Bran looked between Beetle and Radan.

Beetle knelt down next to Rowan, leaned against the unhappy man, and gave a tiny nod. “I’m in as long as he’s in.” Beetle purred.

“Fuck.” Rowan hissed, and motioned to his very broken leg.

Beetle didn’t even blink. “Your point?” The tabaxi playfully rolled his eyes, “Um, look, I need an answer, are you coming or not?”

Rowan looked up, looked down, looked at his leg, looked at Beetle, looked at every other person in the room, huffed, sighed, hit his head against the beam he was leaning against, and finally, finally looked back at Beetle.

Beetle batted his eyelids exactly three times.

“Blue Beetle,” Elowen started, “The man’s leg is-”

“I suppose I should come along, just to make sure you don’t fuck it up. And...I’ll offer a reward as well for the safe return of...my friend, out of my employer’s dime, of course. I’m not fighting with you, I am staying in the cart.” Rowan crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze at Beetle.

Elowen seemed equally displeased. “You are dragging a man with a broken leg into this? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Beetle simply giggled. “Thanks! I’m not.”

Tipsy was half sure Elowen was about to beat Beetle’s ass before Radan waved his hand, calming the paladin somewhat and making whatever action he was about to take to dissipate.

“Suppose I did promise Elowen I’d help him navigate his way around Ironhaven, though I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to make me go back to Greymouth...” Radan said, clearly testing for Bran’s response.

“Well, I don’t think the kobolds would have gone there, probably have a hideout closer by.” Bran replied.

This seemed to please Radan. “Alright, I’m in. But the second we get anywhere near that town, I’m out.”

“You don’t have to follow me there,” Elowen responded, arms folded, “But I’m sure at some point I’ll have to head to Greymouth. I do...appreciate your help, in the meantime.”

“Well, alright then,” Bran gave a curt nod, “I bid you all a good night, take as much time as you need to rest up. See you soon, Clover.”

“Yup yup, take care of yourself!” Clover waved at the law master as he walked out.

Silence filled the air as the motley crew looked amongst one another. No one seemed very impressed by the others’ company, even with the apparently deal between Radan and Elowen. Tipsy certainly wasn’t looking forward to being around such a big group, with people much more impressive and far more useful than she could hope for.

“I’ll be right back.” Elowen announced suddenly, as if anyone cared, and walked out of the inn and towards the direction of Jay. Did Jay know about this? Was Jay even aware of the talk?

She heard armor clinking around, a deep, heavy sigh, and metal against pavement, briefly.

Tipsy looked at Clover.

“Can I just have….an entire barrel? Anything, I don’t care what kind, just whatever’s left.” Tipsy asked hoarsely.

Clover nodded. “Of course! Actually, I think those little demons left the ale alone, you can have as many pints as you want!”

The innkeeper hurried to the back, pausing only to cough when smoke flew out of the back door she opened, before she disappeared into the cellar. Tipsy turned her head back to Ziggy, who was fiddling with his hands and had a very smug smile on his face.

“So,” Beetle’s tail flickered as he eyed Rowan up and down, “Do you have a room, pretty boy? Wanna sh-”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not.” Rowan snapped. He lashed a hand against a broken table leg, finally able to use the leg as a makeshift cane to stand, and hobbled over to the bar. As he did so, Tipsy shot him a pitying look.

“I am so sorry.” She said, making a slight gesture towards Zbeetle, now attempting to rub charcoal against his eyelids for some ungodly reason.

Rowan grunted. “Fine, not like he’s someone who can be controlled.”

Rowan then hobbled over to the closet barstool, sat down, and put his head in his hands, letting out a loud, muffled groan that was maybe two notches down from a scream.

“He’s so hot when he ignores me.” Beetle said.

Tipsy eagerly anticipated her next sip of ale. “You know he hates you, right?”

“Oh I know,” Beetle grinned, “That’s what makes it fun.”

From the bar, Rowan’s groans got louder.

Radan, who had been watching this entire thing with some sense of amusement, walked over to the bar, taking a seat next to Rowan. She watched as Radan leaned towards Rowan, whispering something with a smile. Rowan grunted again, and rolled his eyes, saying something snappy in response. Rowan’s eyes trailed down to Rowan’s hooves, a flash of recognization overtaking his features.

What they were talking about, Tipsy couldn’t hear. But it was clear Rowan wasn’t happy with what Radan appeared to know. They made shots at each other, before Radan said something that pissed Rowan off enough to get right in Radan’s face and hiss a threat. Radan merely smiled, then patted Rowan rigth on the broken leg and hopped off their seat.

“Good talk, buddy.” Rowan said sarcastically, before hobbling away up a staircase, fiddling with a door key in his hand.

“The seven hells did you say to him?” Tipsy asked as Radan began to fix and rearrange chairs and tables.

“Oh, nothin’ much,” Radan replied nonchalantly, “Just had a nice talk about his friend.”

Up above in the suites, a door slammed shut.

Clover finally walked back in, holding a tray with a solid six ales. “Alright, Tipsy was it? Here ya-”

Beetle turned his head to the doorway. “Oh, hello!” He said.

“ _Absolutely fucking not_.” The beers dropped to the floor.

Jay and Elowen walked in. That was not the problem. The problem was that Elowen had a strong grip on the kobold, the lone kobold left alive, that Jay had knocked out before. It was still unconscious, thank the gods, but why the fuck were they bringing it in here?

“Get that murderer out of my bar, what do you think your doing?” Clover snapped, still smiling but face a faint shade of red.

Elowen held up a hand. “We need to interrogate him Clover, he may be the only one who knows why this attack happened. Do you have anything we can use to interrogate him?,” Elowen quickly added, “I’ll guard him for the night so he won’t cause trouble.”

“Uhm,” Clover stopped, then accepted Elowen’s logic as she nodded, “I’ll see what we have in the back...”

Jay already had rope in her hands, and Clover clearly saw, but that didn’t stop the innkeeper from heading into her office. She probably needed some alone time anyways. Using one of the few chairs not broken to smithereens, Elowen set the kobold down, and Jay tied the kobold with such precision Tipsy wondered if she had been a sailor at some point. On Samaaris’ name, she even added little bows to the end, like she was tying a present and not a killer.

Observing their work, Jay reached a hand up. It took Elowen a few seconds to notice, and a few more to realize that the mime was offering him her hand to hold.

_Awww_ , Tipsy thought. Ziggy made a face and crossed his arms.

“I wanna hold the gold shiny paladin’s hand...” He mumbled.

“You can hold my hand.” Tipsy said.

“No, fuck you.”

“Alright, fair enough.”

Beetle walked over to Jay, who looked up at the tabaxi with sad, tired eyes. Beetle reached into his pocket and pulled something out, then gingerly placed it in Jay’s open palm, winking. When Jay took a look at her gift, her brows furrowed.

It was a piece of charcoal.

“It makes great eyeliner.” Beetle said.

For reasons beyond Tipsy’s understanding, Jay didn’t throw the charcoal at Beetle’s face. Instead, she put it in her skirt pocket, reached up, and held Beetle’s hand as well, all three looking at the still kobold.

The doorknob turned, and Clover hobbled out. She smiled, but she had clearly been crying, eyes red and cheeks puffy. “There’s enough rooms left for everyone to have their own suite, um, here you go.” She said, pulling out six silver keys and handing them out. “Food is on the house in the morning, I will be up around eight, um….I wish you all a good evening, I am going to pass out my room. Knock if you need anything.”

“Goodnight, Clover.” Elowen said softly.

“Goodnight to you all as well….gods bless you for being here when you were.”

And with that, Clover left.

No one said much after that, even as Radan walked outside, came back in with the bear-sized goat, and slowly pushed it up the stairs despite much protest from the goat, or as Beetle went up to try and find Rowan, or as Elowen passed out in a chair (or maybe he was awake after all, she couldn’t tell). Tipsy wasn’t sure what Ziggy was doing, only what she was doing. And she was doing, she was the best at.

Drinking like a fucking fish.


	3. An Unexpected Friend

When Tipsy finally woke up, she wondered what the hell she had drank last night. The faint smell of smoke wafted through the windows, Ziggy passed out completely in a small basin filled halfway with water. Maybe, last night was just a really, really bad dream, and she could head back out on the road. Maybe she’d even leave Ziggy behind to his own devices, gods know he’d be better off without her.

Then she remembered that he set a car full of possibly-alive people on fire, and decided to stay.

“Come on, let’s go down.” Tipsy said, stomach grumbling, gently nudging Ziggy. Ziggy snorted, slowly coming too, tiny gurgles coming out of his throat. At least he sounded better, she supposed.

With no attempts to make herself look better or to wash up, Tipsy stumbled out of the room and down the half-destroyed steps, Ziggy following close behind. He walked with a certain pep in his step, one of true arrogance and true conviction.

She still couldn’t believe he _wanted_ to be a hero.

Everyone but the annoying bard-what was his name, Blue Bet? Bow Beetle? Blue Beetle, that was it-was down already. The paladin, Elowen, must have only just came down as he sat in a chair by the bar, head in his hands, looking utterly exhausted. Did he...sleep in his armor or…?

“Oh, good morning.” Clover said simply, chopping up some unscathed vegetables. The smell of breakfast began to replace the smell of smoke, and Tipsy licked her lips. It looked like she had just been in a conversation with the grey eyed guard (Ramen? No, Rowan), the guard picking at a plate of eggs and bacon as he turned to silence. He eyed Tipsy and Ziggy with suspicion, though didn’t say anything, and quickly seemed to relax, turning his head back to his plate.

The inn was as clean as it possibly could be, given everything that happened. All of the tables and chairs that escaped destruction were turned back on their proper sides, most of the dust and ash swept off the floor. Aside from the weary band of travelers and the innkeeper, it was empty.

“Good morning,” Elowen said back to Clover, “Are you doing better, I hope?”

Clover snapped her head over to Elowen. “Oh-um, yes, I guess I am doing a little bit better, thank you.”

Next to her, Rowan cast another hard glance at Elowen, then went back to eating, stabbing the eggs with just a little more force than before.

“Yeah uh, he’s still in pain from last night. I recommended before you lot head out that you go to the local herbalist, he may be able to offer some relief for that leg. Would you like any breakfast before you leave? I know you have a long day ahead.” Clover asked, flashing a nervous smile at Rowan, who didn’t acknowledge her. “With the kobolds and all...”

Kobolds. The kobold.

Tipsy looked around. She knew there had been that one lone kobold survivor, the one that had been tied to the chair, but it was gone.

Sensing the gaze, Elowen turned to Tipsy and Ziggy. “They hauled the kobold off.” He said quietly, clearly tired, “The lawmaster came by last night when you all were asleep. He said he was taking the kobold to the local jail, and he’s now guarded by the best men in Belimar.”

“Best men, huh.” Tipsy took a seat at the bar.

The paladin turned away. “I’m...I was too tired to argue with him. I simply let him do what he pleased.”

Seated next to him, the mime Jay patted Elowen on the hand, nodding. She seemed a little better, though her makeup was still a mess, and her skirt still singed from the fires. Tipsy sighed, and looked back at Clover.

“If you have anymore of those, uh, what is it called...bacon, whatever, I don’t care, that’d be much appreciated.” Tipsy said bluntly.

“We do have a little bit left, the kobolds took most of my meats...um, for everyone, I can make eggs, we have some ingredients for saddle-sorry, salads, the kobolds weren’t interested in my veggies and fruits, there’s still some leftover stew...” Clover looked around the room to gage interest, “What can I ah, get you?”

“I guess I’ll have some of that stew and a bit of the bacon...Ziggy, what do you want?” Tipsy nudged her shorter companion.

Ziggy leaned in towards Clover, unreasonably and comfortably close. “Snails and eggs.”

“Alright, um, does anyone else-”

“The snails and the eggs,” Ziggy said again, “ _Exactly_ like before.”

Clover gulped, and patted Ziggy’s little slimy head. “I can’t guarantee snails, but I guess I will go check in the back, just for you. Radan, would you like a salad? I know you are not really into eating meat.”

Radan, with his chin resting against his arms on the counter, gave a curt nod. “Yeah, I ‘ppose I could go for a salad.”

“Okay, er, would you like a side of bread, or-?” Clover asked, Jay immediately raising her hand and nodding enthusiastically at bread. Clover raised an eyebrow.

“Bring the lit’le one some bread.” Radan translated, as if ti wasn’t blatantly obvious.

“Bread, got it, I made a fresh batch this morning. So, let’s see, I got eggs and slugs, stew and bacon, salad, bread...Beetle, what do you-Bee-Beetle?” Clover looked around, but didn’t spot the tabaxi, “Oh, alright...and you, Mister Von Iris, what would would you like?”

Elowen gave a weary sigh. “I’ll just have some water, thank you.”

“Okay, bad appetite, I can understand. Oh-” Clover looked up-“And look who it is! Beetle, my favorite performer!”

“Good morning, everyone!” Beetle said with a flourish, looking like he had the best sleep of his life. Lucky bastard. He sauntered down the stairs, looking as perfect as he did before. Somehow, his clothes looked totally fine, despite Tipsy vaguely remembering him getting singed in the flames before. Maybe he kept multiple copies of the same outfit?

“What would you like?” Clover asked. Beetle ignored her entirely, instead making a beeline for the bar, grabbing a stool and dragging it behind the counter until he was across from Rowan. He then sat down and purred, green eyes wide, propping his head up with his elbows. When Clover tried to repeat the question, Beetle held up a single finger to hush her.

“You cleaned up nice.” Beetle said to Rowan, winking.

Rowan flipped him off and looked away.

The faintest hint of annoyance flashed in Beetle’s eyes. “Look sweetie,” he said, sweet as sugar, “It’s gonna take more than _that_ to please me.”

Everyone in the bar stared. The grip Rowan had on his fork tightened, until the fork started to bend over from the sheer pressure, and his knuckles began to turn white. Clover surveyed the scene and forced a laugh.

“Ahahaha, I’m just gonna get you eggs!” Clover clapped her hands together and rushed to the back of the kitchen. Ziggy started mumbling about eggs underneath his breath, but a sharp tap of metal against metal got his attention.

“You there, grung,” Elowen said, “Zig, was it?”

“Ziggle B’lim Floop,” Ziggy corrected.

“Right...well, Ziggle B’lim Floop, I need to speak with you.” Elowen motioned Ziggy over to a table in a far corner. Tipsy tensed; what did this knight need with Ziggy?”

Ziggy made a face, and looked back behind him towards the kitchens, eyes just barely making it over the bar counter. “Look, let me get my eggs first.”

Elowen hissed. “Can I please just talk to you?” He sounded impatient and exasperated, “I feel like I need to discuss with you what happened last night. I’m not going to take you far, just have a seat.”

“Ugh, fine!” Ziggy stood up and hopped off the stool he was on, “But if my eggs are cold it’s your fault.”

Little floppy feet tapped against the wood- _fwip fwip fwip fwip_ -as Ziggy walked towards the table Elowen motioned at, Elowen slowly standing and following behind. It was almost hilarious how big Elowen was compared to the grung, Ziggy not even making it half way up Elowen. Spirits, he was barely taller than Elowen’s kneecaps. As Elowen sat down, Ziggy climbed onto the table, standing up. Even will all that, Elowen was still taller.

Rowan watched the two sit. “What’s that about?”

“Eh,” Radan crossed their arms, “Somethin’ mighta happened last night, I don’t think that the paladin was too happy about. But,” Radan leaned back, “That would be an interesting conversation to listen in on if you’re lookin’ for one.”

_Okay, good_ , Tipsy relaxed, _They’re being cryptic about it._

Beetle’s ears perked up. “Yeah, the little grung set a cart on fire that may have had like, a bunch of town people in it and Elowen didn’t like that.”

_FUCK_.

The fork bent in half. “WHAT!?” Rowan screamed, jolting out of his chair.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Radan said half heartedly, “I think most of ‘em were dead anyways.”

“You fucking-” Tipsy took a deep breath in, brain running at a thousand miles a minute, “It wasn’t like that-he didn’t-FUCK you, gods!”

“Did he not set the cart on fire?” Beetle asked smugly.

Tipsy still sputtering, Radan stepped in (or, sat in, whatever) to respond. “Lil’ fella didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Just- **shut it**.” Tipsy threatened, hissing. Beetle rolled his eyes a little, still smiling, and what Tipsy would pay to see that look get ripped off his face, by the spirits. Radan looked ready to explode, but Beetle lashed a long paw out, grabbed him on the bicep as the conversation between Ziggy and Elowen began.

“To say that I am...upset with your actions last night is a bit of an understatement.” Elowen started, tapping clawed fingers against the table as Ziggy stared him down. “But there was something you said later that I found really interesting. You said, Ziggle B’lim Floop, that you wanted to be a hero. And I would like to know your reasons why.”

“Well…,” Ziggy stared at his feet for a moment. In thirty seconds Elowen had gotten deeper with Ziggy than Tipsy had traveling with the grung for, what, two months now? “First of all, I don’t understand what you mean. ‘Disappointed’? I did my part! I worked hard, with all the rest of you! I fought the kobolds, I set some stuff on fire, we chased them away, you know, I don’t see anything wrong with that. But uh, to answer your other question…well…”

Ziggy twiddled his thumbs.

“Who doesn’t? You know, I have my reasons. Personally, I would like to get my name out there more, so, I-I might be a little…lost.” Ziggy put his head down for a second before looking back up. “Don’t pity me for this, but-”

“Actually,” Elowen interrupted, Tipsy unable to get a clear read on his tone, “I was going to do quite the opposite. I think being a hero is very noble pursuit, and if you wish to be a hero-and if you would let me-I would be willing to mentor you, in being a hero.”

One could hear a pin drop. Mentor? The knight wanted to mentor Ziggy?

Ziggy made a bit of a face, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know how I feel about your patronage, uh...” Ziggy sounded incredibly unsure, usual confidence folding.

“There is a lot you need to learn if you want to be a hero. Being a hero is a very difficult job, and it requires a lot of sacrifices and lots of experience, and it can be very daunting to take on by yourself.” Elowen continued, finally leaning back in his chair and waiting for the grung’s response.

“Hmmm….,” Ziggy scratched his chin, “Well...I don’t know. Is it-is it as hard as everyone says it is? Because...my perception of hero is-what I come from believing-the-”

He sounded so confused.

Ziggy finally found his words. “The heroes of the world are the ones who get the most power. The ones who showcase how awesome and grand they are, _to the world_ ,” he started to get louder and more into his little speech, “The ones who can accomplish their goals, the ones who can be _great_ and be recognized for what they do, so-so that’s what I want! I want my name to be spread far and wide so that the ones who have FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME will _**REMEMBER**_ -”

Ziggy stomped on the table. It gave the most pathetic little shake, more of a rustle really, like the slightest breeze hit it, before calmed down.

“And come find me, and take me back. _That_ is why I want to become a hero. So that they finally know how important I am. I don’t think that’s so hard, I have it in me, it’s probably easy! I’m already pretty great, I just think the world doesn’t realize it. Yet.” Ziggy finished proudly.

Elowen chuckled, shaking his head. “I understand wanting greatness, I do. You have to understand that being a hero, and fighting all of these monsters, all of these tasks, it’s not easy. It’s exhausting, and you have to have a motive to keep you going. And will the motive of wanting to be great, and wanting to take petty revenge on those who look down on you be enough to keep you on your path?”

“Absolutely.” Ziggy said with no hesitation.

“I am going to tell you...” Elowen said slowly, clearly hoping to get through to Ziggy, “And this is going to be your first lesson-and it is often the hardest to learn-but the thing about being a hero is that one of the things that can keep you going is taking pride in others. Meaning that you cannot simply destroy everything that is in your way. If you cannot take pride in that, you cannot see the joy that comes from it, your reasons are entirely selfish, I’m afraid your journey of becoming a hero will be immensely difficult.”

Poor Ziggy was bewildered. “That’s...not what a hero is. Heroes don’t protect others, that’s...all the greatest grung heroes were, you know, intent on doing whatever it takes to accomplish their goals. It doesn’t matter who gets hurt along the way, as long as it’s for the greater good of the whole. I’m still working towards-look, my grung tribe means everything to me. I want to go back there, but I can’t, because they don’t know where I am, and if they did know where I was, I would be back there right now, but they don’t, so I need to get my name out so they can find me and take me back. I wanna be a hero for the greater good of grung kind. It’s-if people get hurt along the way, then so be it, but that is what a hero is. The whole rest of the world is backwards, no one else really knows what a hero is; what does protecting people have to do with anything!?”

“Well you want to protect your grung tribe, don’t you?” Elowen asked.

“Of course I do! We’re superior.” Ziggy replied.

Elowen crossed his arms. “I think this will be a very interesting mentorship. But will you let me help you become a hero?

“I...guess? I don’t know how I feel about you as a mentor-I am...” Ziggy trailed off, allowing Elowen another chance to speak up.

“How about this; I teach you about heroism, because I have been a hero for quite a long time now, and you can teach me about the superiority of the grung tribe?” Elowen asked, offering a hand to Ziggy.

Ziggy stared at the outstretched hand. “Alright, big man.”

He slapped Elowen’s hand.

“Then consider this a partnership, of sorts. I’m sure, in your attempt to mentor me, I will be the one mentoring you. I will show you what it truly means to be a hero, and maybe along the way, you know, you can learn what a true gold man acts like. Get some slaves, let people do stuff for you, boss people around...this’ll be great. Oh, and one last thing-” Ziggy gave a little flourish, “Call me Ziggy.”

“This will definitely be rather...interesting. But I think I can make a rather decent hero out of you.” Elowen nodded, mumbling to himself, “You have so much to learn...”

“We’ll see it when we see it, won’t we?” Ziggy said. His eyes suddenly lit up as he seemed to remember something-“Also, I need clarification, what part were you upset about last night?”

“The part that I was upset about is that you burnt the cart without a second thought.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, that was an accident,” Ziggy explained casually, “I mean, it happened, and uh...whatever. I wasn’t aiming for it, but you know, a necessary side effect of the goal.”

“I want you to keep this in mind on your journey to be a hero,” Elowen leaned in closer, “All lives have value, even those you may perceive as...collateral, and, even your enemies. It’s the hardest lesson to learn and it takes the longest to understand. Now, I am going to call this lesson adjourned. You may head back-go eat your eggs...Ziggy.”

Ziggy flopped off the table and began to walk back, muttering about slaves and lesser beings.

“You have a lot to learn, don’t you?” Elowen mumbled to himself. He turned, looking back at the rest of the party, clearly listening in. Tipsy didn’t even realize how intense her gaze was on the paladin until she felt him staring.

Ziggy hopped back onto the stool, and leaned to whisper into Tipsy’s ear. “This guy, he’s so clueless, he thinks that slaves-”

Only barely restrained by Beetle, Rowan whipped his head around. “YOU!” He yelled, teeth barred. He looked like he wanted to punt the short grung into the sun, and Tipsy presumed the only reason he didn’t stand up and strangle Ziggy right then and there was because of the tiny pats Jay gave against his arm (not his shoulder, she was too short to reach).

“I’m not saying he’s dead, mate, just that he could be.” Radan said, lips curved up in a smile.

“What do you mean, he could be!?” Rowan snapped back.

“Yeah, relax baby, he could have been in one of the other carts that got away.” Beetle said. Rowan all but slapped Beetle back.

Tipsy gritted her teeth, and stood. “Shut the fuck up, I didn’t see you out there fighting the kobolds.”

“Yeah because my leg-”

“Exactly, you failed at your one job as a guard to whatever blue eyed bastard was in the carriage before, so don’t complain about the methods we had to use to try and stop the kobolds. You were useless.” Tipsy snapped. Rowan made a dark face, before finally settling back down, just as Clover walked back into the room with breakfast.

“I got eggs-Ooh, I feel tension in the room! What happened?” Clover asked, sounding as cheerful as ever.

Rowan gave a grunt. “No, nothing happened, it’s fine.”

“Well, um, here’s everyone’s food, here ya go.” Clover passed plates out one by one, “Stew and bacon, eggs and snails-sorry, they’re a little burnt from, ya know, the ravaging fires of yesterday-, eggs, salad, bread, and uh...water, for you, Mr. Von Iris.”

Elowen took the water silently.

“Would you like a straw, Mr. Von Iris? They’re these new fangled thingies I have, a shady guy in an alley sold me them. They’re made out of paper, yes, you can like-,” she did a variety of strange and possibly risque hand gestures-“You know, you don’t have to lift the cup, it’s amazing.”

“I’m alright,” Elowen replied, taking the cup in one hand. He seemed to be able to lift part of his helmet up to drink, though his hand and shadows obscured what little of his face would otherwise be visible. He took small, polite sips, quiet, almost shrinking into the background despite being the shiniest man alive right now.

“Okay, anyone else want a straw?”

Beetle, Ziggy, Jay, and Tipsy all raised their hands. Sue her, straws sounded fun. Clover went to the back, Tipsy downing the warm stew as fast as she could-oh gods, that was so good.

“So,” Rowan spoke up, tone much calmer than before, “When were you thinking about leaving?”

“After we interrogate the kobold, which I hope to do after breakfast.” Elowen said, finishing his drink. He kept a tight grip on the metal cup.

“Need to stop by the herbalist as well, right?” Radan questioned.

“Right, of course.” Elowen sighed.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a healing potion for this leg, it’s gonna kill me otherwise.” Rowan tsked, leaning back. Jay, who had been listening intently, frowned. She whipped out a little leather journal-the one from yesterday that she must of gotten at the bookstore-flipped to an empty page, and wrote in it.

_[Leaving?]_ she asked in curly cursive.

“Jay, was it? Well, I-er, _we_ are going to go find the missing townspeople and the kobolds. We’re going to figure out where they went and try to stop this...massacre from ever happening again.” Elowen explained, hand further tightening around the cup as he spoke.

“Rowan’s lil’ buddy here prolly got abducted by the kobolds, so we’ve been hired to go him back.” Radan further expanded, nudging Rowan on the leg with his hoof again.

“I’m only staying until Rowan gives me a kiss.” Beetle winked, getting uncomfortably close to Rowan.

Rowan pushed Beetle out of his face. “That is not happening.” He replied sharply. “Anyways, I know the lawmaster will give you a sizable reward, and I said as well I will handsomely repay you as well, if my friend is found. I mean-if...”

“Because ya didn’t do your job properly?” Radan asked with a smile.

“Leave the man alone,” Elowen said, clearly annoyed, “He’s been through enough.”

Rowan made a sour expression, lips pursed. “Listen you little shit,” he said through his teeth, “I was doing my job just fine, but a fucking ceiling beam fell down on me, so excuse me for not having the gods on my side for this one. But, I will do anything to get him back. He’s...he’s my best friend.”

“We will do anything to help you get back to him,” Elowen was clutching the cup so tightly Tipsy wondered if he was going to dent it, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want, Jay.”

Jay looked incredibly serious. She closed her eyes, and nodded, holding her hand out to Rowan in a sort of vow. Actually knowing social contract, Rowan shook it.

Clover came back out with a crumpled paper bag, pulling out a mass of thin paper tubes with hollowed out centers. “Alright, here we go!”

Tipsy realized that she didn’t actually have anything to drink the straw out of, but it didn’t matter, just making stupid little whistle noises was enough. How exactly did it work? Tipsy wasn’t sure, but man, modern technology was amazing. Beetle appeared to have gotten his two pointer fingers stuck in either end of the straw, and Ziggy seemed to be either testing its flammability or attempting to eat it, she wasn’t sure.

“The fella in the back alley said it was the future, so I said yes, I want future!” Clover laughed as she passed out glasses of cold water. Like usual, Ziggy dumped the entire contents over himself; Tipsy put the straw in and after a little bit of trial and error figured out how to use it. It was weird, but vaguely more convenient. The future, indeed.

“...Probably shouldn’t put those in your mouth...” Elowen said watching the scene unfold. “They seem a bit-...really?”

A tiny ball of spit-covered paper hit Elowen on the shoulders, getting stuck in the crevices of his armor. Elowen stared at the offender, a smug looking Radan wielding their straw like a poison dart, then turned back to the counter, lightly tapping his cup against the counter, lost in his thoughts.

“Oh, ahahaha! You’ve invented a new weapon there-” there was a sharp metal clang, and Clover snapped her head to look at Elowen, “Really!?”

The cup Elowen had been holding was crumpled. The metal cup, completely useless as a cup now because it was destroyed. Elowen jolted up and looked at the damage, suddenly rather sheepish as he hung his heead down and, clearly embarrassed, tried to avoid Clover’s gaze.

“I had all my fine china stolen and then you go and-ugh!” Clover stomped a little hoof against the ground.

“I-I’m-I am so sorry, I hadn’t even realized that I had done this, I-I apologize.” Elowen put the cup down gently, despite the damage already being done.

“Can you just, undent it? You are strong enough to dent, can you maybe just, undent?” Clover asked.

Elowen cautiously grabbed the cup again, far more careful than before. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

“If I heat it up a little bit I’m sure big gold man can fix it.” Ziggy whispered. Tipsy could only shake her head, too amused and too tired to speak.

Elowen fiddled with the cup a bit, trying to shape it out as best he could. Even with it a little more usable, the cup was still mostly fucked, and as penance, Elowen fished out a single gold coin and slid it over to Clover.

“...Thank you.” Clover said. Elowen squirmed under her gaze.

“Perhaps we should take this as a sign to leave.” Radan cut in, tapping his hoof impatiently.

With some effort, Rowan stood, hissing as too much weight got put on his bad leg. He balanced himself against a makeshift cane, hobbling over to the door. This was very much not good enough for Beetle, who flipped over the counter in a perfect roll and slung an arm around Rowan. Even as Rowan tried to take a step back, Beetle kept a death grip on the poor guard, looking smugger by the minute as Rowan eventually gave up. It looked like Beetle’s claws had gotten under Rowan’s chainmail, forcing the man to accept Beetle’s help-whether he wanted it or not.

Silently, the group walked out, Clover waving them all out. About halfway out the door, Radan paused, turned around, and took Clover’s hand, squeezing it.

“Thank you so much for your help.” Radan said softly.

“Yes-” Elowen bowed, a flicker of annoyance on Radan’s face, “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Thank you,” Clover shook her head, “I will be here if you need me, if you need any food to go, your rooms will be free of charge when you return. Well, if you return-here’s hoping, haha!”

Silence. Jay approached the faun, giving her a small silver ball bearing with, again, a smiley face on it. Where was the halfling keeping the ball bearings? Her skirt was as poofy as ever, it didn’t look weighed down in the slightest, so what the hell?

“Oh, thank you, I will put it on my dresser.” Clover said, smiling, and did a final wave before walking back into the kitchens.

The streets were littered with rubble, a strong stench of smoke lingering around. While the Old Marigold got lucky, other businesses weren’t so lucky, most reduced to rubble. Those fortunate enough to be less injured sifted through the piles of rock and metal, trying to clear pathways and look for those who could still be stick inside. Everyone looked miserable, and Tipsy couldn’t blame them; their town had just been utterly destroyed. She’d be pretty miserable if her town was destroyed.

Would she?

Yeah, she would.

...Would sh-

Jay made a sort of strangled cry, stopping in her tracks. Everyone looked back as her eyes went wide.

“You alright?” Rowan asked, as confused as everyone else. Jay looked deep in thought, then slowly raised her hand and rubbed her temples with force. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Jay raised one finger, then spun around, darting down an alleyway that seemed as inconspicuous as any other. Everyone exchanged glances, Beetle barely even paying attention until Rowan nudged him, and they peered down the alley.

Behind the Marigold there were scattered barrels, half of which were burnt to a crisp and the other half scattered about. The kobolds had definitely done a number on them, and Jay feverishly darted to the barrels, kicked and prodding each one and ripping the tops off. She kept peaking in, looking annoyed, then throwing the tops to the side like a frisbee, getting increasingly irritated.

“You uh, doing alright there?” Tipsy asked. Jay was obviously looking for something, but unable to find it. And who would store their stuff in a grain barrel?

One by one, the rest of the party began to help. Tipsy poked around at a few barrels, shaking them, but they all felt the same; just grain store after grain store, if they were lucky to still be full at all. No one seemed to find much, Beetle amused by the antics. The bard, of course, did jack shit, just watching as everyone crowded around the small alleyway in search of...whatever Jay needed.

Tipsy sighed as another barrel popped open, revealed absolutely nothing. “What exactly do you need with these barrels?” She asked.

Rowan nodded, “Yeah, what’s going on? This kinda looks like a shit show.”

Jay stomped her foot down, little puffballs on the end of her shoes shaking, bits of grain falling off them. She was clearly frustrated-possibly not used to having to answer, waving her hands around, motioning between herself and the grain.

“Are you looking for something?” Elowen asked. Tipsy rolled her eyes-yeah, no shit.

Jay nodded. After a moment, she procured the small journal she had gotten yesterday (it felt like years ago now), scribbling something in and then flashing to the group; _[My stuff was here.]_

_Oh no._ “Well,” Tipsy cringed, “That’s unfortunate. Gods know if you’ll find it now.

“That’s terrible!” Elowen cried, sounding either as upset or possibly more upset as Jay appeared, “I promise, I will help you find your belongings.”

“If the kobolds took it, nothin’ we can do...” Radan trailed off.

Still, the faun kicked a few of the barrels around, and paused at one that sounded like there was something more inside, something beyond just grain.

“Oh, think I found it!” Radan leaned down and popped the lid off, grain falling to the wayside as a half scorched, almost entirely empty backpack spilled out.

For a moment, Jay looked elated, before she grabbed the backpack and lifted it up too quickly, clearly used to it having more weight. She lifted its buckles and looked through it, smile quickly turning back to a frown. Slowly, she left the backpack fall back down, staring at it. Tipsy wanted to make a joke for a second, before she saw the tears begin in well in Jay’s eyes. She really meant it when she said her stuff, huh-must of been all her stuff. Her hands curled into fists, head hung low.

From around the corner, Ziggy turned into the alleyway, not a care in the world. “Oh there you are, I was wondering where you went travel slave.” He said cheerily. The grung took a deep breath and grinned, “Aaah, what a beautiful day! I just love the smell of smoke in the morning!”

Jay through a ball bearing with a poorly drawn frowny face on it at Ziggy.

Ziggy screeched, but was able to duck out of the way as the ball bearing smashed into the stone building beside him, a loud _ping!_ ringing out as it rolled back. Ziggy looked completely stunned, utterly oblivious to why Jay had done that, and huffed.

Watching things unfold, Rowan leaned in to Beetle, much to the tabaxi’s pleasure. “Are they always like this?”

“Oh, absolutely. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Jay, she’s the party, but uh...what was his name...Ziggy? Yeah, he’s always like this.” Beetle said confidently.

“You’ve known him for a day!” Tipsy shouted.

“Yeah, and in that one day I can say he’s always like this.” Beetle let a little bit of his tongue stick out.

“Great, great, we’ve got the pyromaniac, the silent one, we’ve got you-I don’t even know how to describe you.” Rowan went on exasperated.

“I’d describe myself as, oh, the love of your life, but you know, we can work up to that.” Beetle giggled. Rowan made a gurgled sort of ‘fuck no’ noise and leaned back, almost forgetting about the bard’s grip on him until he stumbled, Beetle wrapping an arm around his waist and helping Rowan-for once-up.

Grabbing her backpack, Jay sadly slung it on her back.

Elowen cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m...sorry about your stuff, er-Jay,” he said, “I’ll do my best to try and help you restock.”

On her other side, Radan looked down, frowning. They unclipped the buckle of their small plaid cloak, and gently wrapped it around Jay’s shoulders. She looked up, eyes sparkling from tears, and though the cloak was certainly an awkward fit around her, much longer on her than on Radan, she seemed pleased with it, taking Radan’s hand and squeezing it in much oof the same manner they did to Clover.

“I hate to rush but we should all get out of this alley, now that this matter is settled, we should go for the potion and then the...interrogation.” Elowen sounded so tired, just exhausted. Did he get any sleep last night? Not that Tipsy cared personally, but she had expected a knight to be a little...peppier, maybe.

“Think I remember where it is, just follow me.” Rowan motioned them out, awkwardly walking out with Beetle in tow.

They took the party to a small, ramshackle building, more of a hutch than anything else, made of old logs and absolutely covered in ivy. A rickety sign on the side said ‘Everyday Elixers’, the words shoddily carved into the splintered and cracked wood. It was strange, though, as the building seemed unscathed by the previous day’s fires.

As Tipsy made her way into the building, the immediate scent of a thousand different plants hit her, almost instantly giving her a migraine. The shop was small and messy, but the inside also had no fire damage to it, despite a strange haze inside the entire room. The walls were covered with different vials and containers, from bubbling brews to plants that almost seemed to move entirely on their own. Tipsy heard shuffling in the back, but no sign of a shopkeeper.

Beetle sneezed. Rowan grunted, and tried to step forward, but Beetle stayed perfectly still.

“The fuck-I need to get my potion, shove off.” Rowan said sharply.

Beetle’s pupils were as big as dinner plates. Rowan tried to push him off, but because Beetle was already stuck to Rowan’s chainmail, when Beetle decided to flop over, Rowan fell down with him. The guard made a most undignified screech, and began to squirm, trying to unhook himself from the now utterly wasted, high as a kite Beetle.

“Erm-Rowan, would you like me to get him off you?” Elowen asked, clearly holding back his laughter.

“What do you think?! Yes! Get him off, get him off!” Rowan snapped, struggling getting more intense. The paladin bent over, lightly slapping away Beetle’s back paws as he, with surprising delicacy, unhooked Beetle’s front claws from Rowan’s chainmail. Beetle made a sad, sad noise as Rowan finally escaped his grasp, easily lifted up by Elowen, finally able to lean against the counter and sigh in relief. “Oh, thank the gods.”

Of course, Beetle was still a problem, and the only solution Elowen seemed to come up with was to leave the tabaxi as a purring mess on the floor.

Radan leaned over the counter, trying to spot the shopkeeper. They pointed a thumb at Rowan, “Can we just get some ‘erbs for this guy?”

As Radan spoke, a figure finally emerged from the dimly lit back counter. A tall, skinny elf stepped forward, wearing a shoddily crafted pointed hat, patchy black overalls, and a dirty, torn olive shirt. His long brown hair spilled down his back in a tangled mess, pale skin almost glowing under the dim lights, and Tipsy realized he must have been watching the whole time as he wore a huge, amused grin.

“How can I help ya?” The elf asked, still grinning.

“Right...Captain Asinine over here got his leg broken by a beam last night,” Radan deliberately ignored the string of curses Rowan muttered, “Wondern’ if you had anything for it.”

The elf emerged from the shadows, propping his head onto his hands against the counter. “Hmm, interesting, herbs for pain...”

As soon as he had appeared, the elf stooped down again, a variety of bizarre and nigh-incomprehensible rustling noises ringing through the shop. “Give me just-gimme just-ow-how the seven realms did that get-okay,” the elf stuck his head back up, “So, would you like a potion of healing, or just some herbs for smokin’?”

“Yesss...smoke….” Beetle purred from on the floor, rubbing his head against Elowen’s ankle.

“I think you’ve had enough for today.” Elowen replied, tapping Beetle’s head with his foot. Beetle diidn’t seem the least bit bothered by this.

“Potion, thanks.” Rowan said, face scrunched up in pain.

“Aight!” The elf dove right back down, sifting through gods-know-what. He finally popped up again, “Okay, so...oof, smelled the catnip, ay? Yeah, not a lot of tabaxi come ‘round these parts so I usually don’t bother being careful. It’s the good stuff, I tell ya that.”

On the ground, Beetle said something utterly indecipherable. Jay patted his head, and Elowen, sighing, grabbed Beetle by the waist and slung him over his shoulders. Beetle didn’t seem to care that he was now six feet up in the air, easily slinking himself around Elowen and using Elowen as a makeshift scratching pole.

“Consider the catnip free of charge,” the elf shrugged, “Thank for testing it out, awfully nice of you. Now then, oh-your potion, right.”

That elf sure is scatterbrained, Tipsy thought, as if she wasn’t. Ziggy wandered through the scant, tight aisles in awe, excitedly whispering different plant names to himself.

“You know,” Ziggy said, “If they have any nettles and horsetails, in my personal recommendation, guard slave, that’s pretty great for your, you know, your bones, your weak, pathetic bones.”

“I think the elf has got it, Ziggy, let him do his job.” Elowen tilted his head to the side, trying to ignore Beetle pawing his hand against his helmet.

“Excuse me,” Ziggy said, puffing out his chest, “I am a botanist, I know-”

“A BOTANIST you say?” The elf popped his head back up, wiggling his ears, “Do tell.”

Ziggy took a deep break. “Botany.”

The elf winged and made little finger guns, “I got ya. What’s your specialty? You know-you already know mine, what’s yours?”

Such attention made Ziggy beam. “Mostly the wildlife, flora is _my_ specialty. I dabble in some poisons, I dabble in some healing, ya know, a lot.”

“Ooh, interesting-oh, I forgot to mention my name,” the elf bowed his head down and up, “It’s Merrick.”

Merrick held out a long, spindly hand for Ziggy to shake. Ziggy, barely able to reach the counter and unclear on what a handshake was, grasped Merirck’s hand with two fingers, much akin to someone holding a dead rat by the tail, and shook it around wildly.

“My name is Ziggle Blim Floop,” Ziggy said, “But you, potion elf, may call me Ziggy.”

“A grung, eh?” Merrick looked Ziggy up and down, “Do you happen to be from Gullmoor, by chance?”

“Uh-Iiiiiiiiiiii,” Ziggy bit his lip, “Am. Yes, yes, I am, I definitely am. Tech-technically Hammershire but, yes, Gullmoor.”

“Fantastic wildlife down there, I studied in Gullmoor when I was very young, haven’t been there in quite a long time, but um-yes, right, healing potion!” Merrick dove down yet again. Maybe he didn’t have a healing potion and was just bluffing? Who knew, not Tipsy, that was for sure.

“Oooh, the ground is mooooving.” Beetle said from his perch on Elowen’s shoulders as Elowen shifted around.

For what felt like the fifth time, Merrick stood up, slamming a small vial down. “Alright, got one left, lucky you! People have been hastlin’ me about for ‘em all day, all sorts of injured folk around here, who knew?”

“Lots of burn victims, huh.” Radan replied, watching Beetle attempt to curl himself over Elowen’s antlers.

Merrick laughed. “Yeah, the whole kobold fire death thing has actually been really good for business.”

“Little curious, isn’t it? How yours is the only none-burned business on the block?” Radan leaned their head back, casually putting their arms behind them.

“Noticed that, did ya?” Merrick glanced up.

“Course I did. Got some sorta spell over the place?”

“No.” Merrick replied innocently.

Radan crossed their arms. “No? You musta kept it safe somehow.”

“Nah, my solution is, ahem, one of natural means. I try to stay away from my magic as much as possible. Specially in these times, but I’m sure you know that.” Merrick blinked, hands folded together.

“I know, yeah, I’m from the area. Erm, then do you have some sort of fire protection? An herb or a plant or…?” Radan asked, coming in a bit closer. Rowan tapped his fingers against the dusty counter impatiently.

Merrick pursed his lips together in thought. “I’ll leave this to you, er, Rowan was it? Overheard your name on the way in, presumably your parents weren’t actually cruel enough to name you Captain Asinine...anyways, leave this to you to decide what you want. I-oh, the price, what was the price...oh, I remmeber now, cheap ol’ price of one hundred goold pieices for a healing potion!”

“I-” Rowan sputtered, “Thought you said it was free?”

“No, the catnip was free, for that poor sod over there,” Merrick’s hand waved over the counter as he did another dive into his storage, “I can’t just charge for air, that’d be ridiculous! HahahaaaaaI should look into that.”

While Merrick looked around, Rowan stared, wide eyed, at the potion.

“A hundred gold...” He murmured. Beside him, Jay dumped out the coins her pockets-a few copper and a couple silver, the earnings from the night before. Elowen reached in...somewhere in his armor, pulling out a few gold coins as well.

“Don’t help him, I know you can afford it.” Radan said, presumably rolling their eyes under their bangs.

“Check the price of the nettles and the horsetails, I’m telling ya!” Ziggy cried, confident in his solution.

“I’d like my leg to get actually healed,”” Rowan said, “Don’t want to be swallowing some crap for days and barely get anything done.”

Something clicked in Tipsy’s mind.

“Wait a second-Ziggy, if you-I mean-you did all those crazy stunts, didn’t you say you had healing magic?” Tipsy asked, “You can just-you know-”

Four heads whipped around, none of whom seemed very enthused by the idea. Rowan cringed, and behind the counter, Merrick chuckled nervously, though mouthed a ‘ _no_ ’ to Tipsy.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use any magic on me,” Rowan said, “I can afford it, it’s fine, just wasn’t expecting such a price tag.”

“Ironhaveners don’t like magic.” Elowen half whispered.

From beneath his cloak, Rowan pulled out a large pouch, much larger than it had any right to be. He opened it to reveal countless glittering coins, all gold, of various sizes. Jay, after looking at the sheer amount of gold this man had been carrying the whole time, quietly put back her scant copper and silver.

“So you said fire protection, right? Let’s see, I got acid, a potion of climbing, water breathing, elixir of light, animal friendship, potion of growth...what were you looking for use wise? What you want to get out of it and all that.” Merrick rambled, as if he had all the time in the world. He did, Tipsy supposed, but the group definitely didn’t.

“We’re about to head out of town after those kobolds that just attacked us, so any kind of fire protection would be nice.” Radan gave a small shrug.

“You’re paying for it, right?” Tipsy asked.

“I guess, but you aint using it.” Radan snapped back, eyes locked on Merrick.

Ziggy snorted, rolling his eyes. “Fire protection seems entirely unnecessary.”

“Right, right...ah, yes, we do have it still in stock, riiiight here, lemme grab it...” Merricksaid, shifting through a few shelves.

Next to her, Tipsy felt a tug on her shirt. Ziggy stood, confused a he watched Merrick’s frantic search. “I don’t get it,” Ziggy said, “Potions are allowed in Ironhaven, but magic isn’t?”

Merric quickly stood to set the record straight. “My potions are made with all natural ingredients, we uh, really don’t like magic around here. It’s just, you know, a touchy subject, I don’t want any trouble for my shop.”

Tipsy resisted the urge to bash her skull against the wall. “Ironhaveners are weird,” she muttered, “It was much easier at the monastery, gods. You know in Gullmoor if you could use it you could just, use it, ugh.”

“Hammershire is the same way.” Elowen chimed in.

“Things are a wee bit complicated right now in the country, can’t lie.” Radan said, entirely too weary for comfort.

Merrick came forth with several small vials all filled with the same strange, cool bloom liquid, a bit shimmery, pieces of petals and ash floating amidst the potion. Only one seemed to be full, the rest reduced to meager drops at best and entirely empty at worst. “You came just in time, I got one left,” Merrick said, “That’ll run you, ehh, let’s say two hundred gold pieces.”

“By _Veria_ , you are a robber aren’t ya?” Radan spat.

“In a small town that just got destroyed by kobolds, I need all the business I can get. Not as many people are gonna be in, so I need to make up for my losses. I’m sure you can understand.” Merrick tried to sweet talk the faun, who very much was not having it.

“Pretty sure you just told me you’ve had a lot of people in here. I don’t believe they’re gonna go away anytime soon.” Radan stood his ground, the mood turning tense.

“The townsfolk are Ironhaveners, one of us! You lot are travelers, out of towners.” Merrick justified his clear scam. Radan had enough, rolling their eyes once more and pushing the potions back at Merrick, who simply shrugged. Merrick then turned to Rowan, who begrudgingly pushed the pile of glittering coins at Merrick. Merrick pushed them not into a bag, but apparently, directly onto the floor, the distinct sound of coins slapping against wood echoing through the small shop. With a shit eating grin, Merrick winked, “Pleasure doin’ business with ya.”

Rowan kept his head down, but flipped the elf off when the elf was looking away. The shopkeeper briefly looked at Radan again, who was suspiciously close to the counter, but Tipsy didn’t see them do anything so she assumed it was just general paranoia.

Although, weird she could of sworn Merrick had eight potions out, not seven…

“Anything else? No?” Merrick chuckled as Rowan grabbed the healing potion and stormed out, “Pleasure doing business with all of you, yes...”

“Whaaaaat are we doing?” Beetle asked, words entirely slurred.

“We’re leaving this shop.” Elowen responded, trying to get the tabaxi’s tail out of his face.

“Awwww, whyyyy?” Beetle sounded like a sad, destitute six year old whoo just got their sweets stolen.

“Rowan had to buy some potions, now let’s go outside, _darling_.” Elowen finished, sounding immensely amused by himself calling Beetle darling. What was next, sweetheart? Pudding? Honeybun? Picturing the lumbering paladin calling anyone darling was about as hilarious as picturing herself becoming a scholar. Professor Tipsy, scholar of idiots and failure.

The group filed out one by one, Tipsy more than happy to feel fresh, cool air on her face instead of the gross herbs inside the shop, even with the faint hint of smoke. As she descended down the steps, she noticed Radan, paused at the doorway, looking in.

“Radan, right?” Merrick asked.

“Yes sir.” Radan said, less as an answer and more as a statement of ‘why the fuck are you talking to me dammit’.

Merrick leaned over the counter, looking almost ghoulish in the lighting, sharp shadows bending around his features to make him go from silly to downright threatening. “It’s best not to uh, do that all the time, especially in this town. People talk.”

“Don’t know what you mean by that...” Radan trailed off.

“I know this isn’t your first time doing that, in this town.” Merrick tried again, still smiling.

“...Course it’s not,” Radan finally relented, “But I don’t plan on bein’ here for very much longer. And no offense, but I don’t feel bad stealin’ from the likes of you. Maybe charge less for your potions and then we’ll talk.”

Merrick nodded and nodded. “That’s fair, that’s fair, stay as long as you like, you know, I gave most of my healing potions away, for free, but eh, he could afford it.”

“Then why are you chargin’ me? You know I can’t afford it.” Radan said.

After deep thought, the best answer Merrick could give was, “I felt like it.”

Radan blew a raspberry at Merrick and walked out.

“What was that about?” Tipsy asked, leaning over and taking long strides to catch up with the faun. They said nothing, intent on following Elowen and Rowan. Not wanting to lose track of Ziggy (not after the _incident_ ), Tipsy stayed a few paces behind as well.

The lawmaster’s office was half destroyed, the upper levels utterly demolished but the lower levels looking fairly okay. It was an old, old building, made of dark gray stone and granite, a few smashed windows hinting to remnants of stained glass. On a bench just outside, Rowan put down a now empty healing potion, pausing for a second before beginning to take the bandages off his leg.

“Pretty boyyyy, come baaaaack...” Beetle attempted to reach a hand out.

“Ugh,” Rowan flexed his leg, testing the potion and beginning to stand, “That’s gonna hurt for a couple of days, but at least it’s not DAMMIT.”

Rowan slammed fast first into pavement. Elowen began to move forward to help him up, before Rowan held out a single finger and stood up, brushing dirt off his pants.

“Like I was saying, at least I’m not hobbling around anymore.” Rowan finished, cheeks flushed. “I’ve met Bran before, he treats his men well, so I doubt the kobold has gone anywhere.”

Rowan walked to the steps of the law master’s building, still keeping ahold of his makeshift crutch, teal cape flowing behind him. Nothing else to do, Tipsy followed Radan, who was following Jay, who was following Ziggy, who was following Elowen carrying a near-passed out Beetle in his arms like a little baby. Would have been a majestic sight to behold if not for Beetle. The group entered into a small, tidied up waiting room, a few chairs scattered about-clearly there had been a lot more furniture in here before the kobolds attacked. Across the room was a scratched up door, a small gold plaque on it reading ‘LAWMASTER’, as well as a staircase that led into a darkened nothingness; the jails, presumably. At a half-burn desk close to the entrance, a short human woman in a makeshift bun frantically burnt through page after page, writing at the speed of lightning.

Somewhat awkwardly, Elowen forced Beetle, now drooling, in one of the chairs, and turned to walk away.

“Wheeereeee you goooiiiiing?” Beetle asked, little feet kicking out over the arm rest.

“I need to go do some business now, _dearest_ , why don’t you get some rest? You’ll feel better in a bit.” Elowen answered in a very sarcastic voice, patting Beetle on the head befoore finally walking off. Beetle groaned, but didn’t move from his seat. Elowen straightened his back and in a much more serious voice requested, “I was wondering if we could speak to Bran.”

The lady almost dropped her quill, clearly startled. “Uh, right, Bran, he’s actually in right now. You must be the heroes who helped save the town yesterday, thank you so much, yes, Bran is right inside, let me see...”

Elowen was already knocking on Bran’s office door, surprisingly carefully. Maybe he was scared he would break the door down considering the morning’s events.

“Come in.” Came the quiet response. Awkwardly, everyone but Beetle shuffled in behind Elowen, standing stiffly in the stuffy and cramped office.

Bran looked like he hadn’t slept in forty years.

“It is...good to see you again.” Elowen said, awkwardly ducking his head down as he entered the room so his horns wouldn’t scrape against the doorframe. “I assume the kobold is still in your captivity?”

“Yes.” Bran said, slowly forcing himself to sit up. “I haven’t slept since last night. You are welcome to go down and interrogate. It’s strange, the kobold has been calm ever since he woke up this morning, my best men are guarding the...prisoner. Just go down the stairs in the main room, only cell filled right now.”

“I believe I will go interogate the kobold, if anyone wishes to come with me.” Elowen said, looking around. Ziggy tugged against Tipsy’s hand, and she knew she had no say in the matter.

“Count me in.” Ziggy said with determination.

“I aint gonna be very helpful but I will be there.” Radan lightly tapped Jay, who nodded in agreement. Of whether she wasn’t very helpful, Radan wasn’t very helpful, or that she was gong to be there, Tipsy wasn’t sure-perhaps all three?

Besides, if nothing else, it would be entertaining.

From the waiting room, Beetle raised his hand.

“No, not you dearest, not you.” Elowen said, stuck between laughing and trying to be serious in front of the law master whose town was just destroyed. As quickly as they came in, the group followed Elowen out, Rowen staying inside the room. The two briefly shook hands, Rowan giving a curt nod to Bran.

“Now that you’re here, we can discuss.” Bran said, and the door shut.

Whatever they were talking about, they didn’t want the likes of Tipsy to know. Fine by her.

After descending the rickety stairs and past halls lit by faint torches, Tipsy saw four grim-faced guards, surrounding the only filled jail cell. In it, the kobold, dark gray-brown skin and nervous purple eyes flickering back and forth, legs pulled up to his chest and sitting in a pile of straw. Upon seeing the party, the kobold shrank back into itself, especially as Elowen approached.

“Hasn’t moved since he got up. In fact, he got up, looked around, and went back to where he is.” One of the guards said, bowing her head at Elowen.

Elowen rapped an armored hand against the bars. The kobold flinched, gasping, then looked up at Elowen.

“I don’t suppose we could chat.” Elowen ‘asked’ firmly.

The koboold said something completely foreign to Tipsy’s ears, a carefully construed response of hisses and gurgles. Elowen was taken a bit aback, but Radan mumbled something, and the apparently useless fawn stepped forward.

“I recognize that, that’s draconic,” they said, “I-I can speak draconic.”

“Would you mind interrogating the kobold, then?” Elowen asked, perhaps a tinge worried-probably feared what would happen if Radan said no. But instead, they nodded, and stepped forward as Elowen crossed his arms and loomed over the kobold, who looked like he wanted to cry. Radan knelt down, clearly uncomfortable, running a hand through their hair and down their braid. Besides them, Jay had stepped up, eying the kobold.

Radan said something back in draconic, briefly casting a rude little glance at Elowen that made the paladin pause, and step back. The kobold spoke up again, and they went back and forth for a little while, Tipsy unable to understand a word.

The longer Radan spoke, the more concerned they became. A deep frown took to their features, shoulders tensed.

“What are you getting out of him, Radan?” Elowen asked after a moment of silence between the two parties.

“He’s talking about some sort of master, they took the supplies back to the hive, wherever that is.” Radan said, bitting their lip.

Elowen sighed. “See if you can get a physical description of the master.”

Radan went back to talking. There were some more negotiations, Radan very intense in expression, before the kobold appeared to perk up, looking more hopefully than anything else as he asked Radan something in draconic. Finally, Radan looked up.

“He’s agreed to show us to his hive, so long as we take ‘im.” Radan said.

“Well I’m not a huge fan of taking the kobold with us, but if he’ll show us how to save the village I’m all for it. I can keep an eye on him.” Elowen looked the kobold over, poor thing shrinking under his gaze.

“Goin’ to have to, ehm...should we tie ‘im up? I don’t know the protocol here.” Radan stepped back as a guard came forth, going through a ridiculously large ring with a stupid amount of keys on it. There weren’t even that many jail cells, why were there so many keys?

Elowen watched as another guard fetched some rope from a nearby shelf. “We can tie his wrists, he needs to be able to walk my himself.”

As further discussions were made, Tipsy watched as Jay, looking increasingly uncomfortable, procured a large loaf of bread from her pocket. She tossed it into the cell as gently as she could, and the kobold, smelling the treat, took only a second before he began to scarf the bread down wildly, making half-adorable, content little noises of happiness. It would be cute if this kobold hadn’t tried to murder the townsfolk the day before.

The jail cell finally opened. One of the guards got a tiny pair of handcuffs around the kobold, probably meant for the halflings and gnomes in the area, and tied thick rope to the cuffs. “Who wants the rope?” She asked gruffly.

Elowen wordlessly raised it hand. As the kobold shifted over, Elowen turned back to Radan, stretching their back out after being crouched down for so long.

“Does he have a name, Radan?” Elowen asked.

There was a quick exchange in draconic.

“He doesn’t seem to have one, just calls himself slave. Feel like we should give him a name,” Radan said, “How ‘bout Toast?”

_Toast?_

“That’s terrible, but I suppose it’s better than slave. Toast it is.” Elowen scoffed, again trying not to burst into laughter. Man must have been made of stronger stuff than her, as Tipsy belted out, half crying, stumbling up the stairs as Ziggy snapped at her for bumping into him.

“Nothing’s better than slave.” Ziggy grumbled as they walked back up.

Whatever Radan had said to Toast got the kobold very excited, as he bounced up and down, repeating some sort of phrase over and over again like a hyped up hyena. Elowen easily made it up first, patiently waiting for Toast on his rope to catch up to the speedier paladin.

“What is he saying?” Tipsy asked Radan.

“Toast.”

“Oh.”

The lawmaster’s office door opened. Rowan stepped out, locking eyes with Toast, still saying something in draconic.

“It was nice talking with you Bran, I guess I’ll go back to the what the hell have you done.” Rowan stopped dead in his tracks staring at the kobold.

The kobold sputtered for a moment, then said something that sounded suspicious like his name in common. “T….teeeeooo….oooaoaaa……..aaaoaoa…...sssss…..”

Elowen gasped, clapping his hands together. “Is he _saying_ Toast?” He asked, utterly delighted. Realizing Bran and Rowan were still gaping at the sight, Elowen cleared his throat, “The kobold agreed to lead us to his hideout if we return him to his brothers, and hopefully, the mastermind of the raid. It’s the best lead we got.”

“Who the seven realms speaks draconic?” Rowan asked, bewildered. Radan briefly flashed their hand up. “Okay...you said mastermind, right. From what I can remember, usually kobolds serve under another dragon, so that’s...good to know. If we’re gonna go out and do this with this kobold...”

“T...teeoo….toasss…..toast. Toast. Toast!” Toast began to chant, again and again, finally getting his name right.

“Also we named ‘im Toast.” Radan added.

Rowan glanced between Toast, Elowne, and Radan. “Great, you’re becoming attached to...him. I guess we need supplies, is there anything we need? I was just discussing with Bran, we can head over to Harkin’s Dry Goods, they have a cart and horses for us at the ready. Should be able to set off in about an hour.”

“I would say we should grab more health potions but with those prices...” Tipsy trailed off, eyes narrowed. Gods, what a scammer that man was.

“Anythin’ you can do about him, law master? Was a right robber, with those prices.” Radan said, clearly not expecting anything from a rather confused and concerned Bran but moreso just venting.

“Yeah, Merrick, a real...shady fellow there, hated that shop. That mist did nothing for my headache, if nothing else.” Rowan said.

Tipsy flashed a grin. “Hey, at least he got the bard off of you!”

The bard was currently flopped over Elowen’s shoulders, either asleep or close to it.

“Guess I should count my blessings, yes. I would like to be on the road very soon, so whatever errands you need to run do it now. I know, Jay, you had your supplies stolen, so...you know what? Here,” Rowan reached into his cloak and pulled out multiple gold coins, handing them to a stunned Jay, “For helping and, um, I know you seem short on funds, so…this is for you.”

Jay looked at the coins in absolute amazement, then quickly tucked them into her pockets, so fast Tipsy almost missed it. As Bran and the receptionist waved them off, the group left, the sun really starting to rise high into the sky as it neared noon.

Harkin’s Dry Goods had seen better days. The place was half scorched, the front in utter shambles, a few volunteers carefully prying off burnt boards and trying to repaint the sign, to little success. While Jay immediately made a beeline for the inside, Elowen stood just outside the store with the still-chanting Toast. Before entering, Rowan paused, sighed again, and grabbed a small cloak from the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Here,” he said, wrapping the cloak over the kobold, “So no one freaks out seeing him.”

Elowen nodded. Toast seemed a little weary of the cloak at first, but either grew used to it or simply got distracted, trying to scale Elowen’s armor. Okay, that _was_ really cute, but Tipsy had a mission here.

The inside of the store, compared to when Tipsy had last seen it, was a mess. Shelves overturned, most of the stock in the store entirely gone, and only a few scant workers attempting to fix the place back up. Harkin himself appeared to be doing inventory, jotting notes down in a small leather notebook. Jay was already at the counter, tapping on the wood to get Harkin’s attention.

“Oh, it’s you again, the little lady! What can I get for ya? I’ll warn you now, we’re a little short on stock, but I’ll do the best I can.” Harkin asked, leaning over the counter.

Jay motioned around herself, then made a very violent stabbing motion.

Harkin blinked. “Uh...”

Realizing her pantomime wasn’t working, Jay instead pointed outside, to Elowen, then back at herself. Harkin snapped his fingers in realization.

“Oh-oh! Armor, okay, yes, let me go and check, that would be in the back. I think we have some left, we were able to save a lot of the supplies we kept in storage...who knew brooms could be so handy...” Harkin briefly went into the back, coming back out after just a minute. “Alright, we have couple of studded armor sets, some scale mail, I do have one shield left but it may be too big for you. What exactly were you lookin’ for? Do you just want light protection or are you planning on getting into any big skirmishes?”

Jay seemed entirely lost.

“...Okay, um, how much stabby stabbing are you going to be doing?” Harkin tried. Jay put her fingers together to indicate just a little bit, and Harkin nodded. “Little bit? A light armor should do the trick for you, lemme grab it from the back.”

The general store owner again ran into the back, coming out with a set of thin leather armor, resembling something like a corset with shoulder pads, alongside leather cuffs for both her wrists and her legs.

“This is some studded leather armor, with a hero’s discount for saving Belimar, it’ll run you fifteen gold coins-we usually sell it for fifty, can;’t go any lower unfortunately.” Harkin explained, Jay almost immediately slamming multiple coins down onto the counter. Jay grabbed the armor from the counter and dragged it down to her level, nodding in satisfaction. “Anything else that you need? Perhaps uh, in a list?”

Tipsy took the opportunity to cut in. “Have a few requests, actually. Do you happen to have a map of Ironhaven, by chance?”

“A map…,” Harkin grimaced, “Oof. Been a while since our cartographer came into town and dropped some inventory off...I can go and check in the back for ya, but most of our paper goods were burnt in the fire. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Tipsy leaned in real close, trying to keep her voice low, “Do you happen to have any _orcan_ liquor? Talkin’ about the hard shit here.”

“The kobolds made away most of our alcohol, unfortunately, but I can also check for you-so sorry about that, you know, just a lot of chaos lately.” Harkin ran behind the counter and disappeared down a hall. Tipsy heard faint yelling and a minimal amount of arguing. When Harkin came back out, he was accompanied by a slightly taller man with the same height and build-a brother or a cousin, perhaps. “Wasn’t able to find anything, but my brother Neil here can help you, he knows all the best trade routes for where you can find a map. I’m um, gonna go help this little lady over here.”

Neil quietly stepped forward as Harkin rushed to Jay. “So you need a map, huh.”

“Yup. Probably gonna be on the road for a little while, haven’t been to Ironhaven before and after this probably won’t want to come back but no matter. What’s the closest town that would have a map?” Tipsy asked, sullen. Great, she wasn’t gonna have a map and she wasn’t gonna have a way to get wasted, this was going to suck.

“Let me think...currently our cartographers are traveling right now, probably dropping off new shipments. I know Milbridge is the closest town north...are you heading north, towards Greymouth?” Neil asked.

Tipsy shrugged. “I have no idea where that is but everyone else seems to be talkin’ about it so I guess so.”

“If you are heading to Greymouth, well-it’s our capital, so they’ll for sure have a dedicated map store.” Neil explained, Tipsy’s eyes immediately lighting up.

“Oooh, it’s the capital, no wonder everyone keeps talking about it. All makes sense now.” Tipsy babbled, biting her tongue. Ugh, she really had no self control.

“Yeah, it’s fairly big, I’ve made a few trips to it myself, you’d be well taken care of there. Milbridge is a smaller town than us, so I can’t say for sure if they’d have any. Your best bet is buying one in Greymouth, since I can know they’d be well stocked.” Neil finished.

“Alright, well...thanks, I suppose, good luck rebuilding the shop.” Tipsy gave a small salute, going back and leaning against the wall.

Radan approached with a box of chocolates, giving Neil far more than what the sweets were worth; a whole two gold.

“Keep the change.” Radan said quietly, almost too quietly.

“Thank ya, ‘preciate the charity.” Neil nodded and grabbed the coins, presumably before Radan could change their mind. Radan shuffled away with the chocolates, stuffing one in their mouth and taking a spot near Tipsy.

Jay was getting the last of her armor put on, Harkin wiping his brow and giving a thumbs up. “Well, that’s about done, let me check your list...oh, I think we actually have most of these in stock, let me go grab them.”

Everyone waited in awkward silence as Harkin looked. Tipsy was surprised she hadn’t heard Ziggy cause any trouble, but she realized he had been eying Toast the entire time, an unhappy expression on his face as he watched the tiny koboold attempt to bite one of Elowen’s antlers. Was that...jealousy?

Harkin finally rushed back with an assortment of goods, slapping them onto the counter. “All together would be five goooh okay,” he barely had time to react as five gold coins were flung at his face, “Thank you, thank you, pleasure doing business with you. I hope you all have a safe journey out, looks like you all are getting ready to leave, right?”

Rowan nodded. “Bran said you would have a cart and horses ready for us? We’re heading out to chase the kobolds.” He said, perhaps a little too demanding in his request. Still, Harkin smiled.

“Yes, of course, just follow me out back to our stables.” Harkin motioned for the group to follow. He led them through overturned boxes and burned barrels to a small stable in the back, with few carts and fewer in decent condition.

Rowan and Harkin went back and forth for a little bit, eventually settling on the largest cart they had left and some pretty hefty looking horses.

Someone whistled, and Tipsy turned. Clover stood to the side, looking a bit forlorn. She carried a large straw basket covered with a cloth, and based on how delicious it smelled Tipsy guessed there were some rations inside.

She smiled at the group. “This was kinda haphazardly made with whatever we had left, but I hope it’s enough for the journey, at least for the first two days.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tipsy smiled back, “Um...”

_Shit. Come on come on why now, what was her name, thinkthinkthink you just thought it come on, just, don’t say-_

“What was your name again?” _FUCKING DAMMIT._

“Clover, my...my name’s Clover.” Clover said, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh yeah! Right, right, I knew that.” Tipsy’s smile went from kind to embarrassed, and she hoped that the vague blush in her face wasn’t too noticeable. _Idiot idiot come on you’re so stupid you fucking dipshit why did you even-_

“Haha, ale was uh, stronger than I thought,” Clover chuckled, “I wish you all luck, and of course, my door is always open to you all. And, Radan...”

Clover walked up to the faun and hugged them. After a moment, Radan hugged Clover back.

“Stay safe, sweetie.” She whispered, before walking back.

Rowan was already on the front bench holding the reigns, waiting for the rest to catch up. The cart wasn’t exactly the height of luxury, really just a table with wheels, but Tipsy was fairly certain they could all squeeze onto there, even with the giant armored paladin. “We about ready to go?”

Jay skipped over to Rowan, showing off her new armor proudly. He smiled.

“Glad you were able to pay for that, you know, with my help and all...alright then, thanks Harkin again for the cart and horses.” Rowan gave a final nod to Harkin.

Harkin returned the gesture with a small bow. “Same to you, thank you all for your help, both last night and beyond. I hope you are all able to find the missing villagers; anyone brought back home is a win in my book.”

With that, Harkin shuffled back into the general store, leaving the party alone. Elowen tugged on the rope to gain Toast’s attention. Toast said something in draconic excitedly, letting Elowen lift him into the cart. Toast ran to the front, poking his head next to Rowan. Radan sighed, and mumbling something about having to interpret for Toast, taking a seat next to Rowan on the front bench. Beetle, still presumably a little high, attempted to curl up on Rowan’s lap.

Rowan looked down, then up. “Can. Can we please move him.”

“He aint my responsibility.” Radan said. Rowan sighed, and with a bit of effort, forced Beetle behind hm, Beetle flopping into a seat across from Elowen.

Beetle groaned, “But if I’m not in your lap, how can I see your pretty eyes?”

Rowan gritted his teeth together. “My knee still hurts, just stay in the back.”

“Oooh, oooh, can I sit on the horse slaves?” Ziggy asked. Tipsy’s eye twitched.

“No, they’re uh….they aren’t ready for your greatness.” Tipsy replied, and the two took a seat across from Jay. With a jolt, the cart began to move forward.

The countryside seemed devastated, the kobolds must of spread wide across the area. Tipsy had nothing else to do, so she only watched as Jay pulled out the leather journal, and began flipping through it. At first, Jay seemed perfectly fine, barely grazing after what looked like previous entries, presumably from the old owner. But then her eyebrows furrowed, and she read more carefully, sticking to two pages over and over again.

“What’s uh...what’s wrong?” Tipsy asked, feeling a strange sense of unease.

Jay turned the journal to the group.


	4. Cavern Bound

_1327, 10th of Redfall_

_The tension between us and Ironhaven is rising and soon it will break. The outcome will surely be violent, and I fear the worst for the King and his family. Roland has always been a kind and just ruler, and the peace talks that are starting tomorrow may be his best chance to end this while we still can. The king of Ironhaven and his court arrived tonight, and while the visitations so far have been polite and all smiles, I sense cunning beneath it all. The only two innocent of all of this are Feyre and Fallon, who seem to be getting along somewhat, which gives me some glimmer of hope. One day when we are all gone, these two young rulers will work together to maintain peace throughout the continent._

_1327, 13th of Redfall_

_The first days of negotiations are over, and while nothing of note occurred I am filled with more dread than before. During dinner tonight, I watched as Feyre suddenly lost control of the power she’s been trying so hard to keep in check, I thought we had made a breakthrough with her last month. A burning light blinded us all, but Roland and Maeve were able to calm their daughter with some effort. I expected the King of Ironhaven to throw a fit because of his views on magic, but he seemed oddly calm. Roland made the decision that Feyre and I will travel to the summer cottage while he and his queen settle negotiations, I hope being in isolation will help calm her nerves. I’ve been mulling over what could have caused Feyre to have such a great outburst, surely it couldn’t have been because of th---_

Elowen stopped.

“It ends here.” He said simply, flipping to the next page. He mumbled something as he looked over the page; whatever was on that final filled in page was unfamiliar and concerning. “13th of Redfall...that was the Bloody Thirteenth, when Fenharrow fell to Ironhaven.”

His grip on the journal got a little tenser. Jay frowned, making small motions for the paladin to return her only means of communication but he either ignored her or just didn’t notice, too lost in thought.

“Hammershire was a very close ally of Fenharrow’s. I was not yet a paladin, but I do remember the day Fenharrow fell quite vividly. It was not...a good day, for anyone.” Elowen glanced over to Toast, looking at Elowen with complete ignorance to the conversation going on, tongue sticking out of his mouth. Toast made little grabby hands at the book, and Elowen gently held the book just out of reach. “Careful with this.”

Toast looked Elowen once over and flopped his head to the side, saying the only word he knew in common-“Toast!”

Elowen patted Toast’s head. “You are very cute and very sweet, however, I should-someone else needs to read this, please, take it.”

He waved it around for a moment, before Tipsy’s curiosity got the better of her and she managed to snag it before Jay could. Ignoring Jay’s narrowed eyes, Tipsy began to flip through the pages, Ziggy peering over her should and nodding his head along to the words. Most of the pages were pretty boring mundane records of apparent castle activities, but true to Elowen’s words, those last few pages...and the strange script on the very last page, written in a language Tipsy didn’t even begin to recognize.

“Well...shit. I mean,” Tipsy cleared her throat, “I’ve heard a little about what happened to Fenharrow. Any idea what the text at the end is there?”

“I have no idea,” Elowen shook his head, stilling petting Toast, “I’ve never seen the likes of it before.”

From the front of the cart, Rowan turned his head. “What are you lot talking about? Heard a lot of voices going on at once.”

Jay ran a finger in a slicing motion over her neck.

Rowan raised exactly one eyebrow. “Alright, uh, interesting.”

Unsure how else to communicate to the guard, Tipsy held up the last two pages of the journal, a slight grimace on her face. “J...Jayce, was it? No-don’t tell me-Jay found this journal at a bookstore in Belimar, and it’s um, it’s a bit weird.”

Ziggy nodded sagely. “They’re straight up _dead_.”

Tipsy flipped to the last page, with the strange script. Rowan leaned back, studying the page, eyes narrowed in thought, but could only shake his head. “Certainly not a language I’ve ever seen in Ironhaven before, I’ve been in the royal library and even there I...I don’t remember seeing anything like this.”

“If it is a magic script it wouldn’t surprise me that you haven’t seen it, considering how you are with magic.” Elowen’s tone was only a touch snarky, still petting Toast-at this point Tipsy presumed Toast was the only being keeping Elowen from utterly losing it. “It’s a miracle Ironhaven didn’t invade Fenharrow before they did.”

“Fair enough, that day was terrible, on everyone. I don’t think,” Rowan sighed wearily, “Fenharrow deserved what it got, for what happened.”

“The day Fenharrow fell was the only day I ever saw my mother cry. She was a paladin at the time, she knew the...”

_Wait_.

Gears in her head turned.

_Ellis Knight Man plus Mother plus Paladin._

_Paladins equal warriors._

_His mother was a warrior._

“Hold on,” Tipsy straightened her back up, “Your mother was a warrior?”

Elowen slowly looked at Tipsy, clearly not expecting that to be what she got out of the conversation. “She was,” he replied after a moment of thought, “I looked up to her. She was...she _is_ , she’s not dead, she’s one of the reasons I decided to join the force.”

Her brain felt like it was melting for a second, before Tipsy regained some of her footing and the pieces began to come together. A paladin of Hammershire, in enemy territory, in fucking Ironhaven, on a quest, all _alone_ , and his mother...of course. Of course! It all made sense now. Everything was crystal clear now, she had this paladin figured out through and through. Tipsy gained an understanding of this stranger that was clearer than her understanding of herself, and she knew exactly what he was doing here and why, and what her purpose was.

Now came time to change the subjects so she didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“Interesting, certainly...must have been nice, having your...mom alongside you and all that-um, Ziggy, what do you think?” Tipsy turned to the grung still leaning over her shoulder, hoping he would provide a much needed way out of this conversation.

“I never knew my parents,” Ziggy said more solemnly than Tipsy had ever heard him say, “Not that I care, us grung don’t bother with-”

“Nonono, idiot, what do you think about the journal?” Tipsy cut in, all but shoving the journal in Ziggy’s face.

He frowned for a moment, then glanced down to the weathered pages. “Well...to be quite honest, if it’s not grung, I don’t care, buuuu _uuuuuuuuuuu_ uuuuuuut I suppose I do have a natural affinity for the arcane,” Ziggy paused to gloat in his own glory, “So I suppose, just for your pedestrian non-grungs, I can try to see what’s going on here.”

Ziggy landed in the small space next to Tipsy, snatching the journal away. He held a hand over the mysterious script, eyes so narrowed they almost looked like they were closed. For a moment, hiis brow was furrowed in deep concentration, before there was a flash of bright violet, and Ziggy yelped, journal fluttering to the floor of the cart.

“The seven realms was that?!” Rowan called from the front, looking over.

“Yeesh, such disrespect! Hmph, figures, the script is of elven origin, they’re not nearly as civilized as the grung,” Ziggy crossed his arms, “It’s...locked, by magic. We’d need a code to read it, I think. I uh, don’t think we’re supposed to be reading this.”

Elowen looked over the scene, concentrated on Ziggy’s words. “It _was_ someone’s private writings, we’ll have to see if we come across someone along the way who could potentially...”

Jay huffed, snatched the journal from the ground, and gave a small stomp that signified ‘bitch this is mine now.’

“Oh-oh! Of course, with your permission, Jay, as it is now yours.” Elowen stopped petting Toast for just a moment to add that in hurriedly.

Though Radan didn’t turn around, but from the front of the cart, Tipsy heard them grumbling, and their voice faintly echoed behind them as they spoke. “I don’t think it really matters who wrote the journal at this point. If it has anything to do with the royalty of Ironhaven, then it’s something we shouldn’t bother with. You really shouldn’t trust anybody who works for the king, or knows anything about him.”

Even turned away, and with a full set of bangs in the way even if Radan was turned, Tipsy could feel Radan’s piercing glare on Rowan. Sensing his gaze, Rowan stiffened.

“Don’t look at me, I...” Rowan relaxed his shoulders, and clicked his tongue. Hands tight around the reins, he called back, “As much as the king hates magic, I...even as a guardsman, in this circumstance and this circumstance alone, I do not care. If you want to use magic, if it helps save my friend, go ahead, I will do anything to get him back at this point, magic or no.”

“We were going to do so anyways,” Elowen replied, perhaps a touch snidely, “So you didn’t have to worry about that at all.”

“Didn’t need your permission.” Radan cut in, lips pursed, lighting kicking Rowan’s leg with their own.

Tipsy rolled her eyes and leaned back. “Not gonna rat us out, are you? I mean, not that I can use any magic, but be pretty funny to just tell on us when we get back.”

Rowan’s eye twitched at the barrage. Beetle leaned forward, head poking out between Rowan and Radan’s, looking right back at Rowan. “So uh, this friend of yours, I’m curious-tell us more about him.”

“Yeah, you seem like the...curious sort. I aint getting into it, he can sure as hell tell you, think what you want but I sure as hell aint saying anything.” Rowan shot back.

“Awww, but where’s the fun in that?” Beetle purred, tail flicking back and forth.

“Bottle, as the humans say, the cat is killed by their curiosity. It, you know, curiosity kills cats. It has killed many cats before and it will kill many afterwards, and you, a cat, by being curious, will be killed, by curiosity.” Ziggy said, as eloquently as usual. Was the cat’s name Bottle…? Eh, fuck it, she didn’t care.

After a moment of poking and prodding, and Jay poked her head out just underneath Beetle, buns perfectly cupping his chin. Rowan sighed again, though this was more of a growl, and spoke. “My friend, is a very important nobleman, in Ironhaven, and more specifically Greymouth, that is all I am going to say.”

If Rowan thought he was going to get a break, he was wrong.

“This friend of yours wouldn’t happen to be a prince, would he?” Elowen asked.

“NO.” Rowan boomed, teeth barred.

“You sure?” Beetle batted hs eyes again, but this time that wasn’t going to cut it.

“I am VERY sure.” Rowan turned back, like a total liar.

“I suppose we’ll just have to go back to Greymouth and find out, now won’t we?” Elowen replied smugly, lacing his fingers together.

Rowan’s face had warmed quite a bit, a deep shade of red, and he held a white knuckle grip on the reins now. He was mumbling something to himself when Jay, either as a joke or in compassion, it was hard to tell with her, reached a hand out to his shoulder. Rowan immediately swatted her away, going back to grumbling, a touch louder this time. Jay pouted, crossing her arms and eyes narrowed at Rowan.

“So, what are you all doing here? In Ironhaven, I mean.” Rowan asked, cutting in before Beetle or Elowen could make anymore accusations. “It is pretty fishy to see a half-orc, a grung, a paladin of Hammershire, and a tabaxi all in the same tiny town here.”

“Oh, you know,” Elowen shrugged casually, “We all have our reasons.”

Tipsy’s own eye began to twitch. Gods-be-damned, this again…

“You wouldn’t understand,” Ziggy chuckled, flicking a single mosquito off his skin, “It’s big time stuff-”

“I was kicked out of my monastery, so. Have that going for me.” Tipsy blurted out.

Everyone stared. _Shit, shit, why did you say that you dumb-_

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Elowen said, in a tone that made her grimace. Great, now she had the great paladin’s pity, this day was going splendid.

“No, it wasn’t anything I did,” Tipsy forced, _forced_ a laugh from her dry throat, “Not this time.”

“’This time’?” Rowan sounded either slightly annoyed or slightly amused, “You make a habit of trouble, eh?”

“I try not to, it just follows wherever I go. Probably shouldn’t even be here, just gonna get you all killed.” Tipsy said quickly, hoping she sounded more relaxed in tone than she felt.

“Reminds me of my friend.” Rowan gave a very light chuckle, though he didn’t sound very humored.

Elowen shifted around, sunlight glinting off his armor. “I’d like to see you try.” He said haughtily, far more good natured than Rowan. Good, at least everyone was in good spirits before they went and did this suiicide mission.

Tipsy grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

Elowen paused, then leaned, a bit awkwardly, toward Tipsy, armored hand outstretched. “Let’s make it one.”

Tipsy was about to reach out when there was the sharp sound of something hard hitting wood, and Elowen snapped up, hand immediately over his sword. He relaxed soon after, however, releasing it was just Radan, staring back at them.

“Let’s _not_.” They said.

“Yeah,” Rowan, amazingly, agreed with Radan, “My friend is enough trouble as is. We’re at record heights for bullshit right now, let’s try to have this go well.”

“You are certainly with the wrong crew for that sort of thing.” Radan clapped their hands together.

“Well, we won’t cause too much trouble, will we Toast?” Elowen said to the oblivious kobold. When the kobold chirped in apparent agreement and flashed the biggest, cutest eyes, just absolute orbs, Elowen squeaked.

“A strange man, you are.” Radan went back to watching the road.

“I won’t deny that.” Elowen barely paid attention to Radan as he gave Toast a small applause. Jay began to clap as well, though she quickly silenced when she noticed Toast barging his way back to the front, snout twitching in the air as he sniffed around. He said something in draconic, and pointed forward. Radan frowned and looked forth, then turned to Rowan.

“Ehm...well, the little man is telling us to straight, through that very suspicious looking field.” Radan said, sounding unsure of the directions. It looked like ahead all there was was a tall field of wheat.

Rowan shrugged. “Just a wheat field...he told us to go straight?”

Radan nodded.

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” With another slap of the reins, the horses moved forth, trampling wheat beneath their hooves. A golden sea of grass surrounded them, Tipsy scooting closer into the cart so that the wheat would stop poking over and hitting her back. But as they moved on, Tipsy realized that they weren’t parting the grass themselves; indeed, there were multiple close-together tracks, as well as fragments of scattered and charred objects.

The wheat field didn’t seem so homey after that.

Toast climbed up, pushing his way to try and look over the field. He nearly tipped over, before Radan, with lightning fast speed, grabbed Toast’s ankles and steadied him. Toast shuffled onto Radan’s shoulders, peering over, Tipsy able to catch a glimpse of a grin on the kobold’s face as he chattered in draconic before the grin collapsed.

Radan seemed to furrow theiir brows, though Tipsy couldn’t really see their brows under those damn bangs. Toast backed down, sitting next to Elowen and putting his hands in his lap, staring down.

“I’m going to guess you didn’t get very good news?” Elowen asked, clearly concerned.

“Seems that we’re almost there, but our friend over here is having second thoughts about having to see the ‘master’ again.” Radan replied.

“Well I can’t imagine the master would be happy with the company he’s brought.” Elowen put a reassuring hand on Toast’s shoulder. On Gruumsh, he just dwarfed the little kobold, and to think just yesterday he had been going through them like…oh, Tipsy suppressed a laugh, the paladin was giving the kobold head scrtiches. That-that was adorable.

Radan leaned back, patting Toast’s head, and the two began to converse. Toast, who seemed like he was in the middle of an existential crisis, had realization slowly dawn on him. Whatever Radan was saying was meant to sound comforting, hopefully.

“Tell him I will protect him with my life,” Elowen said in between the chatter, “He can hide behind my shield.”

“Sure, sure.” Radan went right back to draconic. Toast looked at Elowen, then to Radan, and hugged his knees, tail laying limp by his side. Radan held a hand out to Toast, who gently grasped one of Radan’s fingers, smiling just a-

“So, we’re just not gonna discuss how the cow knows draconic?”

Fuck.

His pupils narrowed into the thinnest of lines, Beetle gave another once over of the scene. “I mean, I’m just saying.”

Radan looked over to Beetle, frowning. “Do you have a problem with that, mate?” They asked.

“I don’t have a problem with it, all I’m saying is that I’m just...curious as to why you know how to speak draconic.” Deapite his words, Beetle clearly had some form of a problem with it. Whether that problem was really just to spark drama for the fun of it...eh, who knew.

“Really isn’t your business now is it?” Radan’s hands curled to fists. Wow, was there already going to be a fight? Tipsy wouldn’t give Radan a hard time if they did want to beat the crap out of Beetle.

Beetle twirled a tuff of hair between his fingers. “Well, since we’re kinda following your word on all of this, because none of us know what you’re saying, so we’re at the mercy of you right now trying to lead us to this place.”

“You want me to prove that I can speak draconic?” Radan was _fuming_ now, to the point where Tipsy was beginning to feel...worried.

Why was she worried? This wasn’t her fight.

“No, I just feel like since we are working together, we deserve to know, you know, how you know, you know?” If there was a way Beetle could fit one more ‘know’ into that sentence Tipsy’s brain would’ve exploded.

“I think we shouldn’t piss off the only person that speaks draconic.” Tipsy said sharply, hoping a glare from her would be enough to shut the tabaxi up. Based on his smirk, it wasn’t.

Radan gave a slightly approving nod-good, she had least had their approval. “Does anyone else here feel the need to know why I can speak what I speak?”

“I care more about whether or not you promise to lead us in the right direction.” Elowen looked forward-the tracks were leading them deeper into the woods, where the wheat began to get shorter and shorter due to the trees blocking out the sun. Jay shook her head as well, shrugging casually-she certainly didn’t care.

“Hmm...Bootleg might have a point, how do we know-” Ziggy started, Radan cutting in.

“What, that I’m not lying to you and leadin’ ya to random wheat fields in the middle of nowhere?” Radan’s words sliced through the cart, causing a very blessed moment of silence. They sighed, and finally, “I was raised by someone who spoke draconic. That’s all.”

“All I needed to know.” Beetle said in a painfully sing-song voice.

Rowan, who had just watched this entire trial by peers go down, coughed. “ **Okay** , I think we’re here.”

The wheat field had dribbled into a small wooded area, tracks from the other carts leading just beyond the trees and out of their field of vision. Still, Tipsy could hear familiar cackling in the distance, and the muffled clacking of metal against dirt. Over the treeline, she could make out a very impressive mountain range, and a dirt road that seemed to have once been used but was long overtaken by bush and weeds. She was honestly more surprised that they were already at the hideout-didn’t the fairytales always make these kinda quests take weeks upon weeks?

An uncomfortable silence filled the cart, the air filled with an energy Tipsy couldn’t quite place.

“We-we should um, leave the cart here, clear the way and all that. Cause too much noise if we go any forward with the horses.” She said quietly, trying to steel her nerves.

Elowen nodded. “By foot, then.”

Rowan quietly hopped off, tying the leads of the horses to a nearby tree. He quietly motioned for the rest to follow him, taking only a few steps ahead. In typical fashion, Elowen stepped out of the cart first, patiently waiting for Toast to catch up, though the kobold seemed frozen in his spot.

Toast looked behind at Radan. Without knowing his words, Tipsy could still see the confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. Radan said something that seemed to comfort Toast, and as they stepped towards the back of the cart, had a quick exchange with the kobold. Radan then nodded and tuned to Elowen, the faintest of faint smiles on their face.

“He’s comin’ with, I suppose.” Radan said.

“Alright-well, come here and I’ll help you out.” Elowen held a hand out to steady the kobold. It would’ve been a heartwarming moment, if Toast didn’t look at his hand, look to the end of the cart, and easily jump out on his own, completely ignoring the paladin’s gesture.

Well, points for trying, Tipsy supposed.

Elowen didn’t even lower his hand, he just tilted his head slightly down in embarrassment. Radan stifled a laugh, Beetle not even bothering too, but Jay-even though Tiipsy had seen her moves and knew she could easily get out on her own-took Elowen’s hand and allowed hm to help her down, which seemed to ease Elowen somewhat.

“What? It was for her, quit your laughing.” Elowen said. Beetle stood up, stretching (gods was he lanky, just all limbs, he looked like a cat that had been stretched like taffy-toffee?-whatever), then pranced over to Elowen. Elowen glanced up at the Tabaxi, sighed, and outstretched his arms. “Here, Beetle, I can help you out of the cart as well.”

Beetle graciously took the over, basically collapsing into Elowen’s arms. Like a knight with his prince, Elowen carried Beetle Hammershirian-bridal-style about a foot away from the cart, swaying him side to side. Beetle dramatically kicked his feet and put a hand to his forehead, eyes approximately as big as the moon.

“My hero!” Beetle cried.

Tipsy turned back to Ziggy. “Oh my gods.” She said.

Ziggy made a face of pure disgust. “Don’t let him touch me. No-no touch, bad touch, gross.”

He was in the palanquin in seconds, eyes narrowed at Elowen and muttering to himself about the human touch or whatever. Was Elowen even human? Tipsy wouldn’t be surprised if he was an elf, given how haughty he was. She would have said something along the lines of ‘don’t you dare fucking grab me’ to Elowen, but there was no need, as even when she had stepped out of the cart and was a good few feet away, Beetle was still in Elowen’s arms. In fact, he was leaning up, looking at his own reflection (and adjusting it accordingly) in Elowen’s shiny helmet, weirdly close to Elowen’s face.

Elowen tipped his head back. “I don’t believe we are close enough for you to stare into my eyes like this. I’m...going to set you down now. You’re lucky I gave you a warning.”

With that, Beetle was unceremoniously dumped from Elowen’s arms, though the tabaxi-of course-landed on his feet. Rowan impatiently motion the rest to follow him, and they descended further into the woods, an uneasy feeling blanketing the group.

As the sounds of kobolds got closer and closer, and the bush got thicker and thicker, Rowan began to crouch, everyone else following suit. Tipsy could sort of see ahead; a row of steep mountain sides and a large cavern leading into darkness, with a few kobolds counting their plunders; three close by and two further ahead, towards the entrance.

“Guess those are just guards checking the spoils...I guess?” Rowan counted to hmself, eyes gazing over the soon to be battlefield.

“We should probably try to, ahem, stealth our way through it, we can’t let the guards alert anyone else.” Tipsy said, about as obvious as the sky. She really was useless at battles, huh.

“While I agree with your idea of stealth, I am not the stealthiest of creatures.” Elowen said, motion to his...well, everything.

“You don’t have to do it, then.” Tipsy snapped back. “Cow kid over here and J...uh...wh. Where is she.”

Radan’s expression went from confusion to panic. Jay wasn’t anywhere near the party, she had gone up aways, barely visible amidst thick bush. There was a flash of silver and then-

_**DOOOOOOT!** _

The three kobolds snapped their heads back, away from the praty but towards the source of the noise. They mumbled to themselves quickly, and began to take cautious steps towards the bushes. Elowen tensed; he quickly untied Toast from his belt and, with a bit of strength, broke Toast free of the manacles binding his hands together. Sure it made some noise, but not as much as the fucking trumpet solo Jay was doing.

Rowan looked like he was having a panic attack. “Oh-gods-fuck-I-fuck-fuck-fuck-”

Elowen unsheathed his broadsword. “I’ll deal with this.” He said, but Radan quickly latched a hand around the paladin’s arm.

“No! Are you fuckin’ crazy? Jay’s givin’ us a distraction, you can’t just barge in there idiot!” Radan tried to quiet themselves, but it was hard considering the panic running through everyone’s veins. They turned to Toast, and exchanged very, very quick words in draconic. “Okay-mhm-okay, okay-”

“Can we PLEASE have a game plan before we barge in?” Rowan basically begged.

Radan paused for exactly one second to reply to Rowan. “We don’t have great communication here in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, I noticed!”

Toast briefly peered over the bushes, then went back to talking with Radan. Radan frowned, and turned to the rest of the party.

“Ziggy-your, you know, the-the shooty thing-long bow, Ziggy, you have your short bow right?” Tipsy nudged Ziggy over and over until she was sure the grung was looking at her. Ziggy grinned at the prospect, but Radan held up a hand.

“Dunno if we want to shoot them yet, ‘specially not in front of Toast.” Radan kept looking at the enemies, slowly approaching the bush. Toast took another glance, and Radan made some kind of face when Toast told them _something_. “...Toast says go ham.”

“Wait-are you sure? Aren’t these like, his friends or something?” Rowan asked.

“Apparently he’s been like, bullied or something-”

“BULLIED!?” Elowen sounded absolutely outraged. The kobolds looked over, but thankfully another _**doot**_ from Jay’s trumpet reminded them of the more pressing issue.

“Ehm, yeah, so. Let’s just taken ‘em out.” Finally deciding on some form of a plan, Radan stepped back, shuffling through their bag to see what they had. Rowan had already been exchanging hand gestures with Jay, miming (was it weird to mime to a mime?) out the action of a bow and arrow. Jay twirled her bow out, and Ziggy grinned as he reached behind him and yanked out his own short bow. Rowan too, from fucking nowhere, pulled a bow out of his cape.

“Everyone just has bows now, huh.” Elowen said, maybe a touch bitter.

Tipsy rolled her eyes-“Hey, I don’t have one, don’t be huffy at me.”

Jay pointed to the kobold closest to her, just approaching the edge of the bush. The other two had their backs turned to the rest of the group, Rowan aiming for the one to the left.

“You got the other one?” Rowan asked Ziggy.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I got it, I’m awesome, don’t forget that.” Ziggy replied quickly, grin so wide it had to hurt.

“Okay, I trust you with this…,” Rowan didn’t sound very trusting of Ziggy, “One...two...”

In perfect sync, three arrows shot right out of the woods, hitting the kobolds almost exactly at the same time. None of the kobolds got a chance to even scream, they were down before they knew it. After a second of tense silence, the kobolds silently writhing, they stopped.

They were dead.

One by one, the group shuffled over to the dead kobolds and their loot. A lot of gold, a lot of silver, and in general a lot of shinies-no sign of villagers, dead or alive. Radan tried to put themselves between Toast and the bodies of his dead brethren, but Toast didn’t move his eyes off of them.

Slowly, Rowan began to load items off the cart, careful not to make too much noise. “This is gonna be really important later, for when we have the villagers. Won’t be able to fit everyone in the one we have-ugh, gonna take a while to get all this crap off...”

Tipsy was fairly certain she heard Radan mumble ‘no shit’ under their breath, and the faun held up a finger-not the middle one, surprisingly.

“Prolly should’ve mentioned this earlier, but when Toast was tellin’ me that they were stealing from the village to ‘feed’ the ‘master’-I’m not necessarily saying the townsfolk have all been eatin’, but we probably wanna spend less time making the cart nice ‘n clean and more time, you know, rescuin’.”

Rowan rubbed his temples, lips pursed. “Okay, this is fine, okay, we gotta do this quick.”

“Can we just surprise the other two up there?” Tipsy asked.

Jay held her bow up, shaking with what could only be blood rage. Hopefully the whole murder thing wouldn’t become a habit…

“Looking at the terrain I don’t see anywhere that we can hide, and I’m not too keen to take a dip in that pond.” Elowen leaned up, careful not to alert the two kobolds ahead, “Though I do see higher ground to our left, if anyone can sneak up there and-”

“On it.” Radan began to trot ahead, stopping only for Jay to follow them. Rowan sighed, and trailed after Radan and Jay, heading to a higher clifftop that none of the kobolds seemed to pay much attention to. Ziggy began to move forward, but Tipsy placed her hand on his shoulder and held him back, shaking her head. He seemed upset, but made no effort to move forward.

“What am I, chopped grung?” He muttered.

The three began to sneak up, the rest waiting in baited breath. It was going fine until about halfway to the cliff head, Rowan and Jay already beginning to ascend, when Radan’s hoof caught against a rock, and in typical what can go wrong will go wrong fashion, the rock bounced ahead and landed in the pond with a small _plunk!_

The kobolds heads shot up. Radan’s eyes grew wide, and they very, very slowly moved just out of their field of vision as they turned their heads, Rowan and Jay staring.

One, two, three...it felt like hours before the kobolds shrugged and went back to talking, relief visible on both Radan and Rowan’s faces. The faun finally made their way up the cliff, looking over with the rest.

Rowan counted for a moment, and then waved at the group. It took Tipsy a second to focus on Rowan, watching Elowen kneel down in front of Toast as the kobold stared at the bodies of his brethren.

“Heyyy!” Beetle called, waving his hand back, instantly earning a harsh ‘SHHH!’ from both Elowen and Tipsy.

Rowan pointed to what Tipsy presumed was the entrance of the cave, nothing but inky darkness as far back as the eye could see, and held up two fingers. Beetle narrowed his eyes, and mimicked the action. Clearly, no thoughts were running through the tabaxi’s head. Tipsy bet if she shook him his head would be hollow.

“I think there’s two more kobolds by the entrance, Beetle.” Elowen said, finally looking up.

Beetle clicked his tongue and nodded. “Ah, of course. I was getting there, thanks.”

He was not.

Jay had pulled out a rapier from...somewhere, her skirt, Tipsy guessed. Where did her bow go? Radan and Rowan talked amongst themselves, before Rowan turned again and beckoned the four forward. Elowen, probably the only one with some form of smarts, immediately began to walk forward, as quieitly as he could though his armor still clinked around. Tipsy, Ziggy, and Beetle all followed as they veered to the right, towards the two kobolds by the cart of stolen goods. From their new positions next to the pool, Tipsy could see two more kobolds guarding the cave entrance, though they didn’t seem very good at their job, one half-asleep and the other jealousy eying the riches the two cart kobolds were looking through. Rowan held up one finger, then two, then-

_Schiiiiiiiiing!_

Jay skewered the leftmost guard like a kebob. She leapt into the air, thrusting her rapier straight down, the guard unable to do more than gape as he was stabbed through the skull. The other guard went down in seconds with an arrow through the chest, giving the slightest of cries as he fell. Rowan’s arrow hit one of the cart kobolds through the neck, leaving only a single kobold left outside.

“Don’t worry,” Beetle said as he whipped out a dagger, “I got this.”

With a burst of speed, Beetle ran right towards the kobold. Without a sound he stabbed the dagger through the kobold’s chest, yanking it out and, somehow, managing to avoid getting a single drop of blood on him.

“Impressive.” Tipsy said, jogging up to Beetle with Elowen and Ziggy close behind. “Surprised everything went so...well.”

“Coulda gone a lot worse.” Radan called as they and Rowan made their way back down the cliff.

“Certainly no thanks to you, mister paladin.” Tipsy nudged Elowen as he stood next to her. She couldn’t tell if he smiled or not, but the way he turned away from her made her frown-guess he didn’t have as much of a sense of humor as she thought.

“Do I look like something you would see prancing around in a dark alley way? Stealth is not my forte.” Elowen turned back, a hand outstretched for Toast.

Oh, right, Toast.

Toast looked at the dead slowly, expression unreadable. He turned to Radan, eyes a bit glassy, and asked something in draconic. Radan shook their head, and replied back. Though no one could understand what either were saying, a shared sense of dread and uncomfortable sorrow seemed to radiate from the conversation.

Toast knelt near the second cart and grabbed four feathers from a stolen hat, head down. He shuffled to the cart kobolds, placing a single feather on each of their heads. A funeral rite, maybe.

Would have been real touching if there wasn’t a disgusting squelch, and Jay, who had spent the entire time trying to get her sword out of the kobold she skewered, stumbled back.

“Jay!” Elowen yelled, placing a hand on Toast’s shoulder. Toast froze, looking rather frightened, and who could blame him? Sheepishly, Jay stepped back, halfway between embarrassed and horrified, giving Toast the distance he needed to head to the final kobold and place the final feather on him.

Tipsy imagined Toast said something alone the lines of ‘Farewell, my brothers’ after that.

“We shouldn’t wait around for too long,” Radan took Toast’s hand, “If anybody’s still alive in there, we need to get to them now.”

The cavern was dark and quiet, the only sounds being whispers in draconic and distant...water? Weird. It was hard to see, but Tipsy could kind of make out two kobolds by a slightly smaller cavern entrance, as well as a path that seemed to veer to their right, though she couldn’t tell what was beyond that path. Rowan shivered, hand on his sword.

“This place gives me the creeps.” He muttered, eyes narrowed, looking for any signs of danger.

“Oh I dunno,” Tipsy looked around as shadows crawled against the walls like bugs, “I think it’s quite homey.”

Radan snorted. “Not a big fan of places with one entrance and one exit, we’ll have to be careful.”

“Been a while since I’ve been in a cave...” Elowen mumbled under his breath. Not quietly enough, as Beetle immediately picked up on his words.

“Oooh, you’ve been in a cave before?” Beetle asked, like he was at an awkward first date trying to make conversation about the weather. When Elowen didn’t take the bait, Beetle tried again. “I said, you’ve been in a cave before? I’m trying to make conversation.”

“Now’s really not the time.” Radan looked to their side, as if they were missing something.

“Once this is over we can all have a lovely chat at the bar, but yes, there’s a few caverns in Hammershire.” Elowen nodded, “The two in the front are only holding torches, I don’t see any reinforcements.”

“Just our luck then. We can...” Rowan trailed off, watching in horror as Toast, already a few feet ahead, held his snout up, sniffed, and made a beeline to his right, towards the branching path. “Waitwaitwait-no! The fuck is he doing!?”

“Shit-Toast!” Radan called, but Toast was already gone.

“Is he going to be okay!?” Elowen’s grip on his broadsword tightened, shoulders tense. Uneasy possibilities ran through Tipsy’s mind-Toast could be killed, he could warn his brethren that the adventurers were here, he could…

“I think he said he was headed towards his brothers, which means we must be close.” Radan grimaced, tapping against his fuzzy legs. “We can try to sneak forward and head to where Toast went to grab him back, I don’t want the little guy getting stuck in the middle of combat.”

Rowan sighed sharply. “Alright, you all go ahead, Elowen and I’ll stay behind. If things go south, just holler.”

“Oh trust me big boy,” Beetle winked, “We’ll holler.”

Little by little, the group followed Radan, only Elowen and Rowan staying back as the reinforcements. The cave grew darker as they made their way down a narrow path, though it quickly widened back up into a somewhat large dead end. Several barrels were scattered around, along with two chests. Toast stood around, talking to three other, only slightly larger kobolds, seemingly very happy. Radan listened in intently, before heading closer to the chest near the group.

With the world’s loudest thunk, Radan kicked the chest open.

Toast paused for a moment, staring at Radan, and Tipsy wondered if they were about to enter a fight, before Toast went right back to talking.

“What’s inside?” Tipsy whispered. Radan made a face, slowly backing up.

“Raw meat, mostly.” They said, pulling out a cloth pouch with about three long and slender...things in it.

The group spent a few moments listening in on Toast, not that anyone but Radan could understand them. Toast seemed very happy, practically glowing as he waved his arms around in the air, clearly telling the tale of his adventurous day.

“What is he saying?” Tipsy asked.

“I think he’s gushing about us.” Radan said, bewildered.

...Huh. Well, Toast certainly wasn’t gushing about her, that was for her. “Should we just, leave then? Don’t think we need to kill these ones.”

“Yeah, I think they’re good, we should be fine.” Radan nodded.

Tipsy scratched the back of her neck. “Should...should we rejoin with Elowen and Ro-Ro-fucking, guardman?”

“...You know what? How about we wait until they take care of the kobold guards?”

The silence meant agreement with Radan’s plan, especially as they heard clattering in the distance. They stared for a little while longer, until she heard clacking against the stone floor, and Tipsy held a hand up to silence Elowen and Rowan.

“Shh, shh, these ones are the good ones,” she said, motioning to the three enraptured kobolds still intently listening to Toast, “They’re like, his buddies?”

“Then we should move on already.” Elowen said, looking behind them, “We took care of the guards, we can move forward.”

“Why is Radan over there?” Rowan stared at Radan, who had a very blank look on their face.

“Oh, they kicked open a chest that had like, a bunch of raw meat in it, it was hilarious.” Tipsy replied, ignoring Radan’s grunt and embarrassed stare.

“Prolly should introduce ourselves to Toast’s friends.” Radan chimed in, inching closer to the three kobolds.

Rowan balked. “Is that really the best idea? I mean, they are kobolds.”

Radan shrugged. “I dunno, but Toast seems to like them a lot-plus I’m pretty sure Toast just referred to me as two-legged master, so I think we’ll be fine. Oh-yeah Toast?”

Finally noticing the party, Toast waved, little tongue sticking out. Gods he was cute. Radan and him had a brief exchange, Toast waving his arms to his three kobold buddies, who all gave various smiles and shakey-shakeys to mimic Toast’s wave, with varying degrees of successful.

“Okay, he asked us not to kill them.” Radan relayed.

“If they’re his friends, I will leave them alone.” Elowen put a hand on his chest, bowing his head slightly in some kind of paladin’s honor swear or whatever.

“Should we ask Toast to stay in here with his friends? You know, so he doesn’t uh...” Tipsy gave a throat slitting motion.

Radan went back to talking to Toast. They chatted for a bit as Jay let curiosity get the better of her, moving to the farther chest towards the back and nudging it open. It opened without a fight, revealing a bunch of tiny trinkets.

Toast clapped his hands and moved next to Jay. He said something in draconic, smiling, grabbing a bell and shaking it. Jay grinned, and began to shake alongside Toast. The three other kobolds clapped and laughed, watching in childish delight, and Tipsy swore she saw Elowen bouncing along to the music before he realized people were watching and stood a little too straight to be natural. It was all fun and games, Toast bouncing onto a pile of bones and hopping from bones.

Bones.

“Hey, not to ruin the fun but uh,” Tipsy motioned behind her, “We should probably get going, yeah? You know, save the villagers?”

Jay sighed, putting two bells in her pocket and somehow not jinga-linging every time she took a step. Rowan sighed in, presumably, relief, as the group followed him and Tipsy out. Radan spared one last wistful glance at Toast before they ran to catch up.

“Elowen and I took out the two guarding this entrance, but we need to be careful...eugh, sorry Toast.” Rowan muttered as he stepped over the eviscerated bodies of the kobold guards. Elowen nudged him, grinning, and Rowan puffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah I know, I’m getting attached, fight me.”

They walked in relative silence after that, the light of the cave entrance getting dimmer and dimmer. Soon the only way to see was the very occasional torch on a wall, and that wasn’t exactly very effective at spreading light around. Rowan stopped, hand over his now bloodied sword again, and held his arm out to stop the group as they crouched.

There were two forking paths ahead, the leftmost guarded by two kobolds and the right guarded by one. The sound of trickling water had gotten a lot stronger, especially to the right. Like usual, the kobolds were talking amidst themselves, a lot more casually than they should’ve been given that they were guarding the townspeople, who Tipsy hoped were still okay in there.

Radan made a few steps forward, slowly. Despite their earlier failures, they managed to get about halfway to the guards just fine, the guards utterly ignorant to the faun’s presence.

“Only three of em, no more.” Radan whispered back to the group, holding up two fingers on one hand and one finger on the other, “Should be easy to take out. Stream over there-”

Everyone glanced over, and sure enough was a dark river running through the cave.

“So just, you know, for your info.”

“What should we do?” Rowan asked, turning back to the others.

“We have to take out all three of them-if any of them see one fall, they’ll alert the others and we’ll be caught.” Elowen looked at his sword and back to Ziggy and Jay, surrendering to the fact that he was useless. Well, for that one instance, though the more Tipsy thought about it the more she realized he had done jack shit. Neither had she, though, so she couldn’t exactly complain.

“There’s enough of us, we can rush ‘em, they’ll never stand a chance!” Ziggy held up his bow, flexing.

“That’s not going to work Ziggy.” Elowen said quickly, hoping the guards hadn’t heard Ziggy’s boasts. “There could be more who are alerted. I agree with Jay-”

Currently being held up by Beetle and twirling her bow.

“We should shoot them from a distance.”

Rowan nodded, and mimed using a bow to Radan. Noticing Jay looking vaguely offended, he cringed, “Oh, sorry, is that like, I mean, I know you also have the bow-”

“Tisk tisk,” Elowen counted the guards again, as if anymore were about to pop out of nowhere, “You Ironhaveners have no tact.”

“We’re not known for our tact!”

“We could tell.”

“Alright, alright, who all wants to head up with Radan to snipe? Jay, can you and Ziggy handle this?” Rowan asked. Jay nodded confidently, Ziggy beaming at the act of Rowan asking him, the magnificent Ziggle B’lim Floop, for help.

“Okay, fine,” Ziggy said, because of course he couldn’t look too obvious in his smugness, “Mime thing, if I ride on your back, we can make one collective burst over there and reduce the noise we make. Now kneel over!”

Looking as serious as he could possibly be, Ziggy mounted Jay like a dracolisk-or, horse, as were more common here. Stupid north. Ziggy was about the only one tiny enough to get a piggyback ride from the halfling, his arms resting on her twin buns as she sped over towards Radan, who looked very impatient. Ziggy didn’t bother to get off, hooking his legs around Jay’s neck and using her buns as rests while he loaded his bow.

Tipsy couldn’t lie, it looked kinda rad.

“That better not affect your shooting.” Elowen whispered to them as Ziggy aimed.

“Trust me,” Ziggy said nonchalantly, “I’m a master.”

Rowan turned to Ziggy, clearly uneasy. “I have a feeling this isn’t gonna go well, like just an inkling that this could go really poorly.”

“Oh it’s not,” Tipsy grinned, “It’s not. Better get ready.”

“Would you please have some optimism?” Elowen tried to disguise the anxiety in his own voice, but failed.

“Kinda hard when we’re staring at a frog on top of a halfling next to a cow.”

“Alright, count of three again.” Radan, Jay, and Ziggy took aim.

The leftmost kobold went down without any trouble, Radan’s arrow piercing through his neck and giving his companions little time to panic. Jay was apparently masterful at the art of killing, firing not one but two arrows at the second kobold guarding the left, piercing him right through the eyes and sending him limp against the wall. But whether it was because Ziggy bragged about it, or just because the gods were feeling cruel, Ziggy’s arrow hit the kobold to the right in the shoulder.

Ziggy looked down at Jay angrily. “Shit! How did you do that!? I want that! Let me try again!”

“Wow uh, the mime is real efficient at killing things.” Rowan tensed, watching the kobold stumble to regain his footing.

“Yes yes, but I don’t think that’s the issue here!” Elowen drew his sword out, “One of them is still alive! Allow me to-”

There was a sickening squish, and the-well, once alive kobold fell to the ground, Radan standing over his body with their own rapier. Tipsy was too tired to bother wondering where they got that from.

“I didn’t need your help, I coulda done that myself, you’re just a stupid cow.” Ziggy mumbled. His face would’ve turned red if it wasn’t already red, but he was definitely steaming. The rest of the group waited in tense silence, but no other sounds came around, just the water and occasional crackle of an ember.

Finally, Rowan stepped forward, looking between the two paths. “Which way should we go?” He asked.

“Suppose we should head right, since that had less guards. Could be more kobolds waiting inside, we can sneak up on ‘em.” Radan moved forward quietly.

“I agree-if we can take out the majority of the forces, the less we have to deal with later.” Elowen followed, and Rowan, apparently not in much of a combative mood, didn’t argue with the decision. One by one, the group went right.

It was not what Tipsy was expecting. There was not a soul in sight but themselves, a dimly lit space, with light only coming from flickering candles and the occasional torch. The pungent smell of various herbs hit Tipsy almost instantly, smelling like that horribly overpriced potions shop from before. Close to the entrance was a desk, that Beetle was already pawing through, scattered with notes and journals and a spilt inkwell. Up ahead Tipsy could make out a ramshackle home, more of a bedroom platform she supposed, built over the stream that cut through this room. Strangest of all were the vats of glowing green...something. Tipsy couldn’t tell what they were, but she got a bad feeling just looking at them.

“Oooh, mhm, interesting...” Beetle pawed through the pages of one of the notebooks. As he flipped it shut, Tipsy got a flash of an engraving-‘The Royal Medical Association of Fenharrow’.

“Beetle, what do you have?” Elowen asked, looking over. Beetle gave an innocent shrug.

“Just some papers, don’t worry about it. Hey, Radan, could you be a doll and come here real quick?” Beetle winked, ignoring Radan’s death stare. Elowen crossed his arms, then apparently gave up and meandered over to the green barrels of mysterious goop, followed closely by Rowan.

Ziggy, still on Jay’s shoulders, went towards the room. Tipsy stayed behind, watching as Jay and Ziggy disappeared behind poorly built walls. She felt...weird. The whole room was pretty weird already, but watching everyone go on ahead, just…

Eh, it was whatever. She was fine.

There was a slight cry, and Tipsy’s head whipped around. Elowen held his hand up, hand covered in green drips. He had been handling a flask, probably an empty one nabbed from one of the tables, but with his armor beginning to corrode Elowen dropped the flask.

“Elowen! What happened?!” Rowan reached to steady the paladin, but Elowen shook his head.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t touch this, it’s...not something you would want to mess with.” Elowen sighed. He walked over to the edge of the crystal clear river, dipping his hand in to rid himself of the green stuff. Rowan walked over, observing the marks on Elowen’s armor.

“Looks like some pretty nasty stuff there,” his nose twitched, “...Do I smell something burning?”

_Oh shit._

Ziggy and Jay burst through the door, knocking it clean to the floor. From what Tipsy could see, the flames seem to have erupted from a small bed by the corner of the room-house. The two held the ends of a large wooden chest, throwing it forward and rolling to the ground. Ziggy stood up, face covered in ash, and hollered,

“TIPSY, HELP!”

_Oh hey,_ Tipsy smiled, _he called me my name this time!_

That positive was quickly overtaken by the thought of WHAT ThE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK.

Forgetting all about her menial job of guarding the door, Tipsy ran towards Jay, Ziggy, and the chest. Without even needing to stop or ask what to do, she leapt into the air, slamming her foot into the chest before jumping back, huffing. The chest, somewhat singed from the fires already, broke open easy.

“Yes, now that’s my slave!” Ziggy cheered.

Her throat felt like it was still aflame. “Oh my gods, on the spirits, the hell Ziggy!?” Tipsy yelled, wiping sweat off her brow. Before Jay could even respond, or Ziggy could try to justify things, Tipsy stepped back, and managed to yell out, “Just-grab what you want outta there, let’s try to get this fire out!”

Inside the chest wasn’t exactly worth whatever trouble Ziggy and Jay had caused. A powder blue cloak, sized for a halfling, and a bag that seemed to contain a decent amount of gold pieces. Jay picked up the cloak, wrapping it around herself, while Ziggy pocketed the gold, not that he knew what the gold meant but it was shiny and he liked it.

Up ahead, she saw Rowan manage to stifle the flames with a mixture of pure determination and the sacrifice of his cloak, the ends getting quite a bit ashen. His eyes looked so very tired, and as he turned, a bucket now visible in his hands-oh, that made more sense for how he killed the flames-he stared back at Jay and Ziggy.

“The fuck were you doing?” He asked, letting the bucket fall to the ground with a clunk.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything.” Tipsy took a step back. Ziggy cleared his throat, and came uncomfortably close into Rowan’s radius.

“It was an accident, and you could’ve let the fire get bigger, that woulda been fun!” Ziggy smiled.

Rowan shook his head and his hands, and his soul was probably rattling in there as well. “No, we don’t wanna attract any attention!”

“But it was so pretty!” Ziggy whined, Jay merely shaking her head. She nudged the grung and pointed back into the house, towards another locked chest. Tipsy felt herself go cold; oh no, not another one, what were they gonna do, make it explode?

Their savior came in the form of a very determined Radan, walking from the desk that Beetle was still hovering over to the rest of the party. Just in time as well, as Elowen finally finished washing his arm off and stood up. Radan walked with purpose, anxiety very clearly written on their features.

“Hey, um, if there’s anything else that you need to do I suppose you should do it really quickly,” Radan took a quick breath and sharply exhaled, “Because what we’re seein’ in that desk over there is that the townspeople are in a whole lot of danger of bein’ experimented on by kobolds.”

It took a few seconds for Radan’s words to settle in, and another few for anyone to react.

Elowen, of course, was first to his feet (though he was already standing, so…). “If they’re being experimented on then yeah, I think we need to get going!”

Jay pointed back at the chest, looking slight disappointed, then held up a broken lockpick.

“I...gimme a sec,” Radan dug through the small pouch against their belt, pulling out a shiny new piick, “Here, you can use mine.”

“Are you sure you want her to do that again?” Rowan asked, arms folded and leaning against a corner wall.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it myself then.” Radan quietly slid over to the second chest, ignoring Rowan’s panicked expression. After a bit of finessing, the lid to the chest popped open, and Radan pulled out a very weird, pitch black circle of fabric. The thing just seemed to absorb light, with nothing bouncing off from it. It was frankly hard to even make it out. “...Jay, you want it?” Radan asked. When Jay shrugged, Radan took the fabric circle, and Tipsy was fairly certain they pulled out some kinda dagger and several vials of what could only be poison.

With their spoils taken, Radan stood up and nodded, a signal to the rest of the group to _gogogo_. Beetle was obliviously flipping through papers, but pranced back in to join the group as they exited the strange room, sense of unease and tension growing ever stronger.

There was only one last path to take in the cavern.

To the left it was.

The noise of rustling chains and sobbing began to fill the air. They made their way, as silently as possible, through a narrow hall into a large cavern that stretched high above, half covered in inky darkness. It was ominous, almost unnatural-whatever was causing that darkness wasn’t merely shadows. Cells had been sloppily carved into the stone walls, thin, mismatched metal rods serving as bars. Tipsy could make out the outlines of several villagers, some shaking, some crying, all panicked. Far away, some kind of hushed figure spoke in draconic, and based on Radan’s expression they were too far away to make out exactly what the figure was saying. In response to these words, there was a loud huff, loud enough to cause the walls of the cavern to shake.

_Oh, gods_ , Tipsy tensed, slowly reaching for her quarterstaff, _This isn’t gonna end well._

A chuckle, footsteps, and the raspy voice of the figure spoke. “Who might you be? Seem pretty important with those clothes.” The voice asked...someone, a coldness in their tone that make Tipsy shiver.

Whoever the voice was talking to responded significantly less put together, shakily and harshly saying, “You stay back!”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, the human trials must begin. You look young and healthy enough,” Tipsy could just imagine the grin on the raspy voiced figure, “We’ll save your dose for last.”

“Le-Leave the commoners alone! Keep me instead. My head will fetch a high price.” This voice was far younger, filled with uncertainty and, no surprise, fear. Footsteps made their way to the cell in the farthest reaches of the cavern. “Let the rest of these people go and I’ll give you anything you want!”

“You’ve piqued my interest,” the raspy voice replied, “But a trial is a trial, and I must follow protocol.”

“Shit!” Rowan cursed. He tried to move forward, but Elowen blocked him.

“You need to be careful, he’s not alone!” The paladin motioned to the two kobolds guarding two other cells on either side. “I know you’re scared and upset for your friend but storming in will put his life in even more danger!”  
  


“I don’t care,” Rowan forced his way past Elowen, “He’s about to get killed, I’m not gonna let that happen!”

Radan stepped in front of Rowan, grabbing his arm as hard as they could. “Rowan,” Radan said slowly, “You know they’re not going to kill him, he’s a prince, he’s worth too much at this point.”

_…_

_OH._


	5. The Captives

Rowan ran a hand through his hair, somehow both frustrated and impressed at the same time. “You figured it out.” He said simply, not meeting Radan’s gaze.

The faun scoffed. “I’m not stupid,” they replied, crossing their arms, “It was pretty obvious. Why would one of Ironhaven’s most important guards be out here in the middle of nowhere? He’s going to be just fine.”

Elowen beckoned the two back, and little by little they inched their way towards Tipsy and the others. He slung one arm around Rowan and the other around Radan, sort of making a half-hearted huddle to at least try and discuss a plan. Ziggy wormed his way in there, and Tipsy, though she was tempted to just sit back and let the big kids discussed, moved forward as well.

“Alright,” Rowan said after a bit of thought, “What’s the plan?”

Jay held up her trumpet.

“Not yet,” Elowen gently put a hand over the trumpet and guided it back down, “Hold off on that. We need to draw the enemy over here, away from the townspeople. Our goal is to save all of the villagers, not just the prince. And I know you all would want to do that too because that’s more money for you. We have to figure out how to lure him out while risking as little lives as possible.”

“Do you honestly think that if we made a distraction he would be the one to see what was going on?” Radan looked over, the cloaked figure looming over the shadow of what Tipsy presumed to be the prince.

Elowen smiled. “If we made a big enough distraction.”

Beetle’s ears perked up. “I got this,” he said, nudging Jay and smiling from ear to ear, “I can join Jay, we both have musical instruments, we got this.”

“I…,” Elowen took a few moments to process, “Don’t hate that idea, per say. It may even be rather smart. Radan, your lock pick is still intact, right?”

Radan nodded.

“You can sneak around and get the villagers out, then.” Elowen glanced behind and counted, “There appear to be...four cells, including the one the prince is in.”

“Do we need fire? I can light a fire.” Ziggy asked. Elowen patted his head and grimaced, but Beetle seemed very intrigued.

“Oooh, we could have fireworks at the end! It’ll be great.” Beetle nearly clapped his hands together, but a quick glare from Elowen stopped him in his tracks...for maybe a second, before he clapped his hands anyways. It was a miracle no one noticed.

“I see what I must do,” Ziggy’s eyes lit with determination, “I must _burn_.”

Rowan cleared his throat, watching all of this go down in utter disbelief. “This is a stupid fuckin’ plan, but, best plan we got I suppose.” He crawled closer and peered over a stone desk that, thank the gods, blocked the party from view. “Can’t make out who that cloaked person is...oh, that’s fuckin’ worrying, there’s this wall of darkness to the side. Looks to be magical or something, not sure.”

“That would be our special guest for the evening.” Elowen chuckled, but he held a tight grip against the hilt of his broadsword.

“Gods I hope this goes well...alright, you three,” Rowan motioned forward, “Go.”

_**Dooooot!** _

In perfect sync, Jay and Beetle leapt up, doing an impressive feat of acrobatics before leaping onto a table in the middle, bowing. Ziggy, much less gifted at performance, simply walked over.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and kobolds, your entertainment for the night has arrived, all thanks to our good ol’ friend...uh...down the hall! I dunno what his name is it certainly isn’t Toast, but whatever his name is, he invited us over as a special treat for your wonderful evening of whatever it is you guys are doing down here, I certainly don’t know...” Beetle look beside him. Ziggy was about halfway up the table, kicking his little froggy legs as hard as he could to give himself momentum. Beetle narrowed his eyes, and without so much as blinking, grabbed Ziggy’s head and plopped him back down on the ground.

Now, a normal person would presume that Ziggy would be, at most, slightly annoyed.

But Tipsy knew Ziggy, and she knew that Beetle had just made a fatal error.

“Anyways,” Beetle gave another slight bow, “Your performance!”

He began to play a frantic tune on his lute, Jay bobbing her head along to the music and juggling. The kobold guards looked utterly entranced, so enraptured they didn’t even notice Radan sneaking right behind their backs.

Without much effort, Radan picked the lock of the closest, leftmost cell. Villagers, who had been watching the performance in utter shock, a child clutching to his mom, turned to Radan, shocked. Radan nodded at the group-though some of them were more interested in the current comedy routine of Ziggy desprately trying to get himself onto the table and Beetle thwarting him every single time-and motioned for them to go. It didn’t take much to get the group of villagers to heads back to Elowen and Rowan, the latter reading his bow.

“Head out and follow the main passage, don’t go into any of the side rooms. If you see a room with four small kobolds in it, don’t be alarmed, they won’t attack if you don’t attack. Now go!” Elowen told one of the villagers, who responded with a small nod and the group scurried out.

Ziggy made a jump onto the table, swinging his fist in victory before Beetle hip-chucked the grung clean off the table. The guards laughed in amusement, not even noticing as Jay inched closer to her right-

And the closer, rightmost cell opened with the faintest of creaks.

She didn’t have more time to watch the villagers escape as Ziggy fell flat on his face for the ten thousandth time. He growled, leaping to his feet, procuring a dangerously large amount of flame from his palms.

“THAT IS IT!” He screamed, snarling, “I AM ZIGGY! I AM AMAZING! HIYAH!”

Ziggy being Ziggy, he began to chuck fireballs at Beetle. Tipsy could’ve burst into laughter right then and there if she wasn’t trying to be stealthy. Beetle dodged the fireballs with expert agility, still playing the lute. The cloaked figure, who had been staring in stunned silence, slowly reached withered hands up, and pulled down his hood.

It was Merrick. Or at least, some version of Merrick, though he looked a lot older, with sunken in eyes and mouth in a permanent scowl. How...how the eighteen hells did Merrick….what…?

What was the main question here.

“Is that the cunt that sold me that overpriced health potion?” Rowan hissed.

“I do believe that is. Now get your arrows ready, come on, get your bow out and start sniping some guards, you venerable Ironhaven soldier.” Elowen nudged Rowan, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Oh shut up you Hammershire prat!” Rowan hissed right back, but did get his bow out.

Merrick narrowed his eyes, scowl growing. “You.” He said, looking right at Beetle, who looked back at the potions seller with a completely blank expression. He was both angry and confused, and Tipsy supposed she’d be pretty confused if the cat who got high in your store was in your evil dungeon lair.

“Me?” Beetle pointed to himself. Did the tabaxi even remember his time in the potions shop?

“The botany guy!” Ziggy gasped, before, with the distraction, Beetle kicked him off the table again.

A sudden prod got Tipsy’s attention. She flinched, almost ready to strike, but it was just a villager, a taller woman in dirty overalls with burn scars on her face.

“Thank you, thank you, how can we ever repay-” The villager started.

“Yeah whatever whatever, get out of here as fast as possible, don’t worry about seeing any alive kobolds, they won’t attack if you don’t, whatever, just fucking go.” She whispered back as urgently as possible, watching Merrick’s hands begin to glow. Oh, this was gonna be bad…

“Alright, um, thank you, we’ll wait for you outside.” And with that, the villagers fled. Just two cells left, and only one with villagers.

Beetle screamed. A ball of dark green energy flung the tabaxi off the table, sending him flying into the stone desk with a sickening thud. It was sorta funny how Beetle’s last effort to kick Ziggy off the table actually saved the grung, as only Beetle had to bear the weight of the attack. Whatever that spell was, it looked like it hurt, though it didn’t wipe the smile off of Beetle’s face.

Ziggy looked over at Beetle. “How does it feel, Butthole!?” He cackled. The grung didn’t have long to gloat before Beetle dropkicked his lute into Ziggy, using Ziggy as a sort of pillow to soften the blow of the lute falling down. With a jolt, Beetle charged forward, dagger in hand.

Merrick tried to say something to the wall of darkness, but Beetle jabbed his dagger into the potion seller’s shoulder. Merrick let out a cry of pain, stumbling into the cell walls.

Elowen took it as his cue to stand. He leapt over the desk, sword held high, letting out a bellow of, “Heeellloooooo!”

Well, shit, time to act.

She sped towards Jay, running as fast as she could. She skidded to a stop realizing that the right guard, though he remained blissfully unaware his prisoners had escaped, was still standing, only just coming out of his trance and grabbing his club. She gripped her quarter staff with such strength she feared it would break, and took a deep breath.

A tiny silver ball barring flung through the air and hit the guard on the head, causing the guard to drop his weapon and cower in pain.

“Oh,” Tipsy blinked, “Thanks.”

Jay winked.

Leaping to join Elowen, Rowan kept a white knuckle grip on his bow, cursing under his breath. Elowen charged at the guard close to Radan, slicing the guard against the chest and striking them down with one blow. Couldn’t say Elowen wasn’t na impressive fighter, at least when he wasn’t getting his sword stuck in festival stallsOW.

Tipsy stumbled back, just able to catch Jay in her arms before Jay to go flying any further. Merrick laughed, lowering a glowing hand as the ground shook.

Radan, still in front of the final cage of villagers and desperately trying to unlock it, froze in place. The strange darkness dissipated, and the room grew so very cold and felt so very small.

Two-no, _four_ eyes peered out, large, dark purple wings unfurling. A long neck rose up, and the distinctive snout of a dragon, a real dragon, an actual fucking dragon came into view. It made the cavern feel tiny, taking one large step and causing the whole room to shake violently, what could only be bones crunching beneath its feet. There was a laugh, its laugh, as it made direct eye contact with Radan.

Radan said something very nervously in draconic. The dragon laughed, and gave a deep, low response, something that made Radan chuckle out an even more anxious reply. Tipsy presumed Radan was probably trying to explain that they wouldn’t make for a good dinner, to no avail.

The dragon slammed a foot down, Radan just barely able to dodge out of the way. Elowen cried out Radan’s name, bringing his shield up, and charged at the dragon.

Oh, this was going to get intense.

Radan tried to unlock the cell again, but their hands shook, and the dragon kept making small moves at Radan-less like the dragon was actually trying to catch Radan, and more like it was just playing with its food. A real sand cat and mouse situation, she supposed.

As Radan fell to their knees, scrambling to get up, Beetle-who apparently didn’t care about the giant fucking dragon-turned back to Merrick. He kept mumbling something under his breath, words that Tipsy couldn’t make out, and his pupils turned to slits as he stared at Merrick. Merrick stared at Beetle, fear slowly creeping into his expression. Good, let the fucker be scared.

“Augh!” Merrick cried as Beetle suddenly flung himself at him. The dagger dug deep into Merrick’s stomach, twisting around with a variety of gross sounds, before Beetle whipped the dagger back out and backed away. Merrick steadied himself against the bars, hissing and clutching his stomach, as the prince inside scrambled to the back of the cage.

There was a nearby grumble, and Tipsy whipped her head around. The kobold guard still standing charged at her, abandoning his club for a spear, and flung it at her. Tipsy yelped, just able to dodge the spear as the kobold moved forward.

Alright, Tipsy decided, it was once again time to do stop being useless and do something. With a deep breath, Tipsy summoned her strength and steadied her nerves.

And with a loud crack!, the kobold guard fell to the ground, skull caved in. Tipsy tried not to look at the sight for too long, already feeling a bit sick, but glanced back at Jay and gave a nod and a thumbs up. Did Ironhaveners know what a thumbs up was? Was Jay even from Ironhaven? Eh, she’d have to ask later, more important tasks to deal with now, like the flash of fire.

_Oh, not again!_ Tipsy cringed.

Ziggy, who had been sprawled on the ground and unwillingly cradling Beetle’s lute, got back on his feet. He huffed, and puffed, and the lute burst into flames. Beetle’s head whipped around, eyes still slits, still smiling but watching with enraptured horror as Ziggy threw the lute as hard as he could at Merrick, strings beginning to crack and break and wood starting to splinter under the heat.

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR MUSIC!” Ziggy screamed. Tipsy didn’t know if he was talking to Merrick or Beetle.

It bonked against Merrick’s head like a comedy routine, a few sparks catching against Merrick’s cloak and starting a fire. Merrick cried in pain and began to stomp against the flames, but the flames were gathering too fast for Merrick to stop them.

The prince watched all this go down, expression caught between fear and amusement. A few of the flames began to creep into the prison. Fuck, fuck, if the prince caught on fire they’d all be fucked.

There was a strangled scream and a burst of blue light. The flames, quite literally, disappeared, an icy frost coating the prince’s plush coat and the bars.

Everyone stared.

Tipsy was suddenly very glad Radan had failed at letting the villagers out, as they were just out of angle to see that. Or maybe Radan had already let them out, who knew, not her.

The prince looked at his hands in pure terror, then began to tremble violently. A million questions ran through Tipsy’s mind-could he always do this? Didn’t Ironhaveners hate magic? If this was the prince, then wouldn’t his dad, the king, the magic hating king, hate him? Did he even know what was going on himself? By the tears beginning to pool in the prince’s eyes, Tipsy presumed he didn’t. What the hell did Merrick do to him?

“Oh, fuck, what the...” Rowan, mouth agape, shook his head, reeled his arm back, and fired out an arrow. Merrick, still shaking his cape, looked up, and the arrow pierced right through his forehead.

That was one less enemy to deal with, thank the gods.

Now all they had to do was kill the dragon and get the hell outta there.

Elowen sheathed his sword, and grabbed a large, ornate shield from his back. He stared down the dragon, like a true knight in armor, not moving or flinching or screaming or crying or...well, anything Tipsy would do if she had to stare down a dragon. His shield glowed with a divine energy, and Elowen let out a yell as he charged.

The shield rammed into the dragon’s jaw, knocking it away from Radan. Radan looked utterly astonished as the dragon let out a piercing roar, and Elowen drew the dragon’s attention away from the faun and to the paladin, covered in radiant light.

Tipsy felt like that was her cue to break the prince out. She dashed over to the cell, the prince still cowering in the corner, and with a deep breath, broke the bars like they were made of paper and stepped into the cell.

Terrified blue eyes stared at her.

“Uh-just, come on! Don’t worry about that, we gotta go!” Tipsy sputtered.

The prince continued to simply stare, unable to say a word. Tipsy slowly turned around as the ceiling began to shake, and sudden feeling of absolute panic filled her veins.

_No, no!_ Tipsy shook her head, _You have to focus! You can’t be a coward now!_

Whatever the dragon had done seemed to radiate throughout the room. Most everyone was able to shake the weird effect off, but Ziggy remained rooted to the dragon, mouth open. He began to tremble, hands going limp, and he didn’t even blink, he just stared. Even as his knees failed him, Ziggy didn’t respond, just staring.

“Ziggy?,” Tipsy cupped her hands, “Ziggy!”

He didn’t respond. Tipsy cursed, and turned back to the prince, even as she heard the distinct sound of metal being crunched, and another loud thump that made the ground shake. There was a loud, almost sonic boom, and debris fell from the ceiling; Tipsy could hear the dragon screaming and roaring, the steady beat of its wings kicking up dust from the floor.

_Okay, seriously, time to LEAVE._

“Fallon, Fallon!” Rowan forced his way past Tipsy and into the prison, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened there?!”  
  


“I-I don’t know!” Fallon cried, tears beginning to stream down his face. “The magic-it just-I just held my hand and I-I can’t go back to the palace now! We can’t go back now!”

“Okay, you’re being a little overdramatic.” Tipsy tried to make herself as small as possible (oh, the _irony_ ), waving her hand.

The prince, this ‘Fallon’, sputtered. “What do you mean!? I am the prince of Ironhaven, and I just used magic!”  
  


“Well no one else has to know! Just, don’t do it again or whatever and just, stop worrying about it, we have bigger things to deal with! I-Rowan, was your name? Make him calm down, gods!” Tipsy slammed her hand against the stoney wall.

Fallon frowned, and turned to Rowan. “But how many of them-”

“Seven.” Rowan replied quickly.

“Seven people!? Seven people know I have magic now!? Oh-oh no, I-this-this has never happened before, I swear, I don’t know what’s going on-”

Rowan shoved a hand in front of Fallon’s face. “We’ll figure it out when we get out of here, now come on.”

Still trembling, Fallon took the guard’s hand, and feebly stood up.

“We have to hurry,” Tipsy turned around, “That dragon could-”

There was a piercing scream. Not from Radan, but from the dragon, as it was blinded by the divine light coating Elowen’s shield. Elowen lifted his shield up, like a true hero, like a true warrior, and with a stunning display of light and strength, he slammed the shield against the dragon’s head. He looked...he looked...it was like…

A feeling of nostalgia, maybe, and warm memories from her past. She tried not to think too much on it, she tried to shove her thoughts away, but Tipsy couldn’t deny it, Elowen reminded her of-

“Ghah!” Tipsy held her arms up as deep dark blood began to spurt out, flecks of purple and gold coating the walls, hitting her arms. Elowen stumbled back, nearly dropping his shield, brought down to his knees. His head hung low as he tried to catch his breath, breathing so heavily Tipsy could hear him from afar.

Was it really dead?

Based on the gurgling, Tipsy was gonna take that as a yes.

“He’s pretty good at this!” Tipsy flashed a smile at Rowan, who was helping to steady Fallon and get him out of the cell, “I mean, damn!”

“You alright?” Radan asked, offering a hand to Elowen. Elowen simply stared, then shook his head and clutched the arm that has been bitten.

“Yes, I’m fine. Powerful weapons have a cost, of course...I just need a second.” He took in a deep breath, sounding completely exhausted. Jay looked over and slowly approached Elowen, and wiith a bit of a stare, Elowen did manage to lift his uninjured arm up.

She dropped a single blue ball barring in, with another smiley face on it. Elowen stared at the gift, perhaps in awe of its azure color, or still wondering like Tipsy was wondering how she got a pen nib tiny enough to draw on the marble sized ball. Elowen cupped the ball barring with his hand, cradling it, and leaned into himself. He tipped the top of his chest plate open, pulling a very small pouch out, and dropped the ball barring in.

“Thank you.” He said softly, sounding close to tears himself. Jay gave a confident nod and patted Elowen’s helmet. “This is...I am going to hope that this is a kind gesture.”

Slowly, Rowa and Fallon made their way to the center. “Good job, everyone,” Rowan looked around, focusing on Elowen’s arm, “That was...quite the fight. Uh, your arm looks pretty crushed, are you okay?”

“Oh,” Elowen looked down to inspect the damage himself, “It looks bad, but I promise it’s all cosmetic. It doesn’t hurt.

“Well,” Rowan sighed, “Thank you all for helping to find and rescue my friend and the townsfolk. We-”

“Yes, thank you all so much,” Fallon cut in, much to Rowan’s annoyance, “For those of you who do not know, I am Prince Fallon Archeron the Second, and I’m very grateful for you saving me.”

There was an awkward pause. Damn, he had quite the fancy title; bit too pretentious for Tipsy’s liking, but he seemed decent enough, even for a prince of Ironhaven. Plus, there was all that weird magic bullshit, and she was pretty sure Fallon wasn’t very clear on what was going on there either.

Elowen stood, finally, towering over the prince-though even Tipsy stood tall against Fallon, so it wasn’t that impressive of a feat. “You were in a difficult situation and it would be wrong of me to turn away from someone in danger, even if your country is putting mine in danger. Some people just don’t have the graciousness to repay favors like that.”

The prince sputtered for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. “O-o-of course, I will repay all of you as handsomely as I can when I return to Belimar. I’ll see what I can do to make sure you are all richly rewarded.”

“Sure, sure,” a smirk crept onto Radan’s face, “But uh, quick question, what’s daddy gonna think of your little mage hands there?”

Fallon shrank in on himself. Rowan kept an arm wrapped around Fallon’s waist. “It’s nothing we need to worry about right now,” Rowan said gruffly, “We’ll sort it out at some point...”

Her mind and eyes wandered. She looked back, to see Ziggy, still on his knees, clutching his legs and rocking back and forth. The dragon was long dead, but he didn’t budge, not even an inch. Tipsy slowly approached, careful not to startle Ziggy. He had a completely unfamiliar expression on his face, or at least, unfamiliar on the always confident grung’s face.

“Um, Ziggy?” Tipsy nudged his shoulder. He flinched, but otherwise made no effort to move. “You...ok there mate? Wanna um, head back in, you know,” she wiggled the backpack, “The palanquin? You uh...um...the fight’s over, the dragon’s dead. He...he can’t hurt you, you know.”

The dragon gave a strange sort of shudder, a belated dying breath, then quieted again.

Ziggy s-l-o-w-l-y turned his head to Tipsy, eyes completely glazed over. Oh, gods, he was really upset-how should she handle this? How could she handle this?

“It’s okay, Ziggy,” Tipsy finally settled on vague encouragements and promises she hoped wouldn’t be broken, “You’ll be okay, just don’t worry about it. We never have to deal with this again.”

The grung finally spoke, voice unusually, almost unnaturally quiet. “I have never felt more alone than in that moment.”

He clutched her leg.

Tipsy froze. Oh no, oh no. What was she supposed to do? It had been years since she had to comfort someone like this, and this wasn’t like it was a monster under the bed, this was a fucking dragon that had definitely killed before and tried to kill them.

“If you ever speak of this again,” Ziggy whispered through tears, “I will kill you. But until this ends,”

He squeezed her leg hard.

“ _Don’t let me go._ ”

Claws tapped against stone. Beetle loomed over Ziggy, still smiling, but eyes burning with rage. Tipsy tensed, and angled herself away from the bard, though Ziggy grabbing her leg made it difficult to move. He clicked his tongue, eye twitching.

“Hey, come on,” Tipsy put her hands up, “Shove off, man.”

Ziggy sniffed, and looked up. Beetle stared right down at him, irises practically glowing green. Ziggy stumbled back, finally letting go of Tipsy’s leg, and little by little, took small steps towards Beetle. The tabaxi’s fur seemed to stand up, his shoulders tensing, a grin-not a kind one-bearing his sharp front teeth bearing down on Ziggy, and Tipsy noticed sharp little claws sticking out of Beetle’s hands.

“Oh, you wanna go?” Beetle said, curling a hand into a fist, “We can go! We can fight! We can-uhm.”

Ziggy hugged Beetle’s leg.

Beetle carefully lifted his leg up, continuing to stare Ziggy without a hint of pity in him.

“Is it because of the lute?” Fallon whispered to Rowan.

“Oh, sweetie,” Beetle whipped his head around, face softening just a touch upon seeing Fallon, “Do you think it’d be about anything other than the lute? You’re very pretty, but not quite all there in the head, huh. To be honest, I’m _really_ upset right now-” Beetle took a moment to shake his leg in a vain attempt to get Ziggy off, “So if you and your pretty little guard wanna go ahead and pack it up, gimme the money to buy a new lute, and send this little frog man back to where he came from, that’d be real swell!”

There was a tug against Beetle’s pant leg, and blue eyes met green.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Ziggy chocked out, “It was great kindling.”

With that, Ziggy slumped to the floor. Tipsy grabbed the little grung, and just a bit awkwardly, shoved him back into the palanquin, sticky little feet sticking out from the bag. _Ziggy…_

“Are you alright, Prince Fallon?” Elowen asked, brushing dirt and grime off his dented arm. “You’ve...been through a lot.”

Fallon cowered behind Rowan, and far too quickly, sputtered out, “I’ll be fine.”

“Listen, I know I’m not known for my emotional sentimentality, but getting abducted and thrown in a cell with a dragon certainly is a traumatizing experience. I can understand if you are a little shaken.” Elowen moved a little closer to the prince, who only tensed up and further tried to use Rowan as a sort of physical barrier.

“C-Certaintly, yes, um-I-I’ll be fine, I just, I think I just need a good night’s sleep and that-that-that’s all I need, I think I’ll be good in a day or two. Or five-um, yeah, I just need some proper rest, and not-not in a cell, it wasn’t very comfortable.” The prince continued to sputter and stutter, only really able to half form words at this point. And they say princes were supposed to be well spoken.

Rowan patted Fallon on the shoulder. “Well, I’m going to go ahead and take Fallon out, he does not need to be here any longer than he already has, seen too much as it is.”

The two were about to depart from the room when Jay, with expert speed and timing, slid in front of the prince. She gave a light curtsey, and handed Fallon a small note, ripped from her journal. With shaky hands, Fallon took the note and tucked it under his cloak, before Rowan finally managed to usher Fallon out of the room.

“Aren’t they our ride?” Beetle asked. “Shouldn’t we, you know, follow them?”

“We have more important business to attend first, Blue Beetle.” Elowen said, staring behind him. Tipsy followed his gaze to the dragon, which had flopped over onto its side and revealed five-

Oh, gods, she was gonna be _sick_.

“You know,” Radan said, hands fidgeting, staring at the ground, “We could just... _not_.”

“Not what? Take the bodies of the deceased like the law master specifically requested us to, and leave them here? They deserve burials, not to be left behind like trash.” Elowen sighed sharply, and rubbed his temples, clearly ignoring the horrible metal screech that made, “Besides, you get paid per person, alive or...passed.”

“Sure, but I dunno if it’s worth carrying five dead people outta here and all the way back to Belimar.” Radan replied, perhaps trying to sound casual, but with an uncomfortable edge to their voice.

They neared the edge of a table, trying to keep their gaze off...the bodies, yeah, something that Tipsy just couldn’t do. They pawed at a small journal and a vial of some kind of toxic substance (presumably, of course), flipping through fluttering pages. They narrowed their eyes for a moment, then pocketed both the journal and the vial.

“I don’t think there’s much else for us to see here.” Radan looked around the now destroyed room, full of the stench of death and corpses.

“Should we destroy the vats in the other room? I do not want anyone to be able to use that...vile stuff to harm anymore people.” Elowen glanced back at the entrance, as if another enemy was going to march in any second.

Radan shook their head, and dug through their bag to pull out the sack they had nabbed from the front of the cave. They peered into it, and gave a slight smile.

“Got dynamite in here,” they looked around, “Be a lot easier to just plug up the cave entrance. Just have to get them out...”

They cautiously approached the bodies, slinging one limp woman, green eyes still wide open, over their shoulder. With a bit of hassling, Jay managed to poke and prod Beetle into helping her carry another body, Jay taking the feet and Beetle lifting the shoulders. Elowen grabbed a corpse, the one closest to the body of the dragon, and hoisted it over. He tried to grab another one, but his arm seized, and the body of a boy fell to the ground with a quiet thud.

“I...believe I can only carry one.” Elowen said.

Keeping her eyes trained on the wall ( _don’t think about it don’t think about don’t think just don’t_ ), she grabbed two...two people, or maybe, two former people, and let their limp forms dangle off her. Lovers, maybe, holding hands with matching rings, and identical braided hairstyles. They had lives, and all of it was taken.

If Tipsy hadn’t been so useless, could she have saved them faster?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer to that.

Even with the added weight, Tipsy rushed out of the room and made her way down dark halls. The mood was grim and somber, and even as they saw the hint of light at the entrance of the cave, the sunshine that was just beginning to disappear across the horizon did nothing to ease the mood.

Rowan talked to the townspeople, two carts already cleared away for transport. One by one, the villagers looked over and parted, allowing the adventurers (because that’s what they were, she supposed, at least for now) to place the bodies onto one of the carts, some corpses placed down more gracefully than others.

A cool breeze hit her as Tipsy, doing her best not to drop anyone on accident. She tried to lay the two lovers side by side-what they would have wanted, she hoped, and with trembling fingers, she laid one hand over the other in an eternal embrace.

“Thank you.” A villager said softly, nodding as Tipsy stumbled back. Ziggy groaned, then poked his head out of the backpack.

“What’s that smell?” He asked, voice rather shaken and far too loud, “It smells like dead meat.”

No one laughed. No, that was a lie, Beetle laughed, though the tabaxi tried to hide it.

“Alright then,” Rowan cleared his throat, Fallon hiding behind him, “We should be heading out, then, will take a bit to get back.”

The villagers shuffled to the carts, a few brave ones sitting with the bodies and the others sheading into the other cart. Four people, the least injured of the lot, stayed standing to guide the carts, Rowan having pulled two of the horses off their own cart and giving them to the villagers. Rowan saw them off, silently, giving some slight directions but clearly in a hurry to get the villagers to leave. As they disappeared into the woods, he turned.

“...Thank you,” he said, “For getting the bodies out.”

There was an unfamiliar squeak. Toast peered his head out of the cave, alongside his three brothers, before they shuffled out. Radan’s expression relaxed, and the faun headed over to the kobold.

“What are they talkin’ about?” Tipsy wondered, trying to distract from the gravity of the current mood.

Radan exchanged words with Toast. Toast went through many expressions-confusion, surprise, fear, understanding-before turning to his bodies. They discussed something in hushed voices, one of them briefly raising their hand before the others yelled at him. Probably discussing something related to their now entirely dead masters, if she had to guess, and what do without them.

What would the kobolds do without any of their leaders? She had always heard kobolds weren’t the brightest sparks in the fire, and Tipsy couldn’t think of any city or town, or any sort of settlement, where kobolds held jobs and lived amongst others. Was it always in their nature, to seek out some kind of leader? And why was the leader never a kobold, always a dragon, or in this case, an asshole money grubbing elf? Were kobolds just doomed to never live with themselves, or was it just the way Ironhaven treated the small reptilians that forced them to adopt strong masters as a means of...what, protection? Purpose?

There were a lot of questions, and Tipsy wasn’t smart enough to answer a single one. But watching the way the kobolds stared at Radan, with their eyes wide, it made her think…

Maybe, maybe these kobolds had finally found freedom in the lives.

Toast turned back to his brothers, but the three bigger kobolds ignored little Toast as they chattered amongst themselves. Looking a bit forlorn, Toast waved at them and then went back to Radan.

Radan looked to the rest of the party, grinning from ear to ear. “Toast has discovered free will, and he’s using it to stay right here with us.”

Besides them, Toast hopped up and down. “Toast...free...Toast free! Toast free!”

Being helped onto the front passenger seat of the cart, Fallon clapped his hands together, looking utterly delighted. He was about to say something when Rowan shot him a glare, and the prince settled back down.

“Well…,” Tipsy ran a hand through her hair, slick with sweat and grime, “Guess it’s time we headed back to Belimar.”

“Before we go, ehm…”

Radan walked over, right behind Tipsy. The hairs on the back oof her neck stood up-what, had she done such a bad job the rogue was gonna stab her already? But instead, they reached into the backpack, and pulled out Ziggy’s completely limp form.

“You mind helpin’ me blow up the dynamite to block the cave entrance?”

Ziggy’s eyes didn’t even sparkle at the idea of explosions. “Sure.” He said wearily, still motionless. “Whatever.”

Living match in tow, Radan headed towards the mouth of the cave. One hand still wrapped around Ziggy, they fished out the sticks of dynamite, setting them up just inside the cave before taking several steps back, shooing away a curious Toast and his brothers, and setting Ziggy down.

Ziggy barely managed to procure a pathetic little spark, but it was enough to light the dynamite.

Dynamite.

_Oh shit._

“FEHKIN’ GO!” Radan screamed as they sped towards the cart, one hand wrapped around Ziggy.

“You heard the faun, time to go!” Rowan yelled behind him, already slapping the reins to the lone horse still attached to their original cart. Tipsy jolted forward, running as fast as she could towards the cart, just able to dive in and slam against the side seating, miraculously not breaking the stupid thing with how cheap the wood felt. As she shimmied in, Beetle came slinking in behind her, looking angry and depressed.

Elowen was next. Tipsy was sure his last ditch leap into the cart would make the bottom split open, thank whoever it didn’t, but he had hit his arm against the side and was hunched over, cradling his bad arm. Jay, of course, came in right behind him-literally, popping out of nowhere behind his back and settling down next to Elowen, hand on his knee. Had she just been clutching to his back the entire time? A smart move, if nothing else.

Finally, Radan jumped forward, Ziggy in one arm and Toast in the other. Ziggy sprawled against the seat as the two slid across and managed to take a seat next to Tipsy. Toast, watching in blank awe, covered his ears just after Jay diid.

“Excitin’ stuff.” Tipsy mumbled, though Radan didn’t hear her. Or didn’t care, either one.

Whether it was just the fear of the gods being put into it, or the way Rowan was yelling, the horse, despite looking a bit feeble and shellshocked, sped off.

There was a moment, and another, and another, but the cave didn’t explode into a thousand pieces.

“...When is it supposed to-”

_**KA-BOOOOOOM!** _

There it was.

With theatrics to impress Gruumsh, the front of the cave crumpled into itself. The top of the cave turned into, essentially, a giant, all-out landslide, kicking up dirt and pebbles as far as just behind them in the cart. She could see as the three kobolds, Toast’s brethren, watched in awe (from a safe distance away, at least) as their home was destroyed.

Everyone was silent as the last of the rocks tumbled down, and Rowan’s breathing got a little less heavy with total fear.

“Well that was…,” Elowen paused, “Certainly something. Slaying a dragon was not on my itinerary, but...”

“Losing my _lute_ wasn’t the plan either,” Beetle snapped, lips twitching into something of a frown. Could he even frown? Even when he was upset, it looked like he was still smiling.

Tipsy rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up, he did what he had to do.”

Beetle mumbled something inaudible, tone definitely mocking. Ziggy, still slouched over Radan’s shoulder, gave no response, not even a weak insult or a demand for Tipsy to beat the crap outta Beetle. Toast swung his legs back and forth, still covering his ears with his hands.

“...You can uncover your ears, Toast.” Radan mumbled, doing a little motion for the act to click in Toast’s brain. “Yeah, that’s it, all good.”

“All good!” Toast replied, happily waving his arms around.

Radan smiled, letting Ziggy flop over. Beetle, watching Toast with cautious eyes, sighed, shook hisi head, then leaned over, head sticking out between a shaking Fallon and a stone cold Rowan. Resting his head on his hands, he began to purr.

“So,” Beetle grinned, “What were you two even doing in Belimar?”

Every other person in the cart groaned. Fallon, wrapped in Rowan’s cape, looked at Beetle, sniffling, eyes puffy and red.

“This never should have happened.” He said quietly, voice wobbly.

Beetle eyed the prince’s get up. “We already know who you are,” he half-whispered, “You can just take that off now.”

Fallon wiped a few tears away. “This is for my own sanity, not yours.”

“...Anyways, so, you gonna answer my question?”

Tipsy sighed. The bard had to be stopped, if only for _her_ own sanity. She reached over, trying to aim for his tail, but he was just a little too fast.

And then he was a little too fast again.

And again.

Aaaaand again.

“Maybe don’t piss off the fucking prince, you idiot!” Tipsy grumbled as she tried to make a swing to get him away from the front. Stupid tabaxis and stupid cats and their stupid agility, he was easily able to avoid her, and fuck it, she was done.

Beetle pouted. “Aww, I just have questions, and I want them answered! I think that’s fine after we saved his life.”

“Can’t you just wait for another, I don’t know,” Tipsy stumbled for a moment, “Opportune moment?”

“And when will that be?”

Dammit. “I don’t fucking know, I just don’t want to get beheaded!” A half lie, but beheading would be one of the more embarrassing ways to go.

Beetle rolled his eyes. “We’re not gonna get beheaded, we know the prince can use magic!”

“Stop!”

Tipsy glanced back at Fallon. For someone who apparently held so much power, he didn’t act like it, hunched over and nervously watching the argument. Rowan stayed the course, staring out at the quickly setting sun, though he stayed tense and had a white knuckle grip on the reins again.

“Can we all just settle down? We’ve been through a lot.” Elowen sighed. Reluctantly, Tipsy leaned back, crossing her arms-leave it to the knight to be the voice of reason. “We should get a night’s rest and discuss this later.”

“I agree with Elowen, and uh,” Rowan leaned back, “I would appreciate it if we don’t bring this up right now.”

“We can talk later.” Radan nodded, playing with some kind of black fabric square-one of the prizes from the chest, Tipsy vaguely remembered.

Beetle sighed, and settled down back in his seat. “You’re all so lame.”

Tipsy let her mind wander. That...that was a lot. The smell of death still seemed to seep into her clothes, both of the villagers and of the kobolds. And that dragon...and Merrick...she didn’t know what Merrick’s plan was. He must have been testing that weird acidic stuff on the villagers, for...whatever reason. Probably to kill. Maybe to poison the whole town? The whole kingdom?

Why? ‘The Medical Association of Fenharrow’...had Merrick been some high ranking official exacting revenge? Why target some podunk little town, and not just go straight to Greymouth?

Well, test subjects, maybe, but...it was just all so weird. And what the hell had he done to the prince?

She was vaguely aware of Radan motioning for her to scoot to the side, and she did as such. Elowen was certainly a much bigger and better person than Tipsy could ever hope to be-he didn’t even hesitate to help the prince, and offered Fallon comfort and sympathy, despite Ironhaven’s actions to Hammershire. Why would he do that? Sure, save the prince so you don’t get your head chopped off, fine, but why go that extra step?

_He’s just a really good person,_ Tipsy could only assume. A really, really good person…

Useful person, too. Everyone was-even Ziggy with his pyromaniac ways got so many good hits in, and wasn’t afraid to provide a well needed distraction alongside Beetle. Beetle downed Merrick even after taking some sort of horrible magic blast to the chest, Jay and Radan both helped to kill the guards, unlocking all the cells and safely evacuating the towns people; fuck, Rowan was the one to kill Merrick!

And of course, Elowen. He came charging in as soon as the real danger began, he helped the fucking prince, no hesitation, no bitterness, just kindness, and he slayed the fucking dragon.

Where did that put Tipsy? Great, she finished off the kobold Jay had already maimed, a flick could have killed that kobold. She ripped off the bars to the prince’s prison, but Radan probably could’ve locked pick that with ease, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the prince was able too just blast his way out. And bars of stone aren’t exactly the most intimidating opponents-hooray, she destroyed rock, congrats. She had been useless, through and through, even before they reached the final chamber. Yeah, she had ribbed on Elowen for not being the greatest stealth master, but she hadn’t even tried.

A whole twenty one years, spent not fucking trying.

The image of Elowen’s shield glowing with that radiant light flashed through her head again. He really had been chosen, huh. What goddess would light be? Luxia?

He was such a good person, on this quest, that Tipsy knew because she was fucking cursed and of course she knew, she wasn’t stupid, she knew what he wanted, what he needed, what even gave her the right to…

To…

“What the fuck?”

Radan held one end of a rope. The circular piece of black fabric laid on the floor of the cart, the rope somehow going right into it, like a perfect hole.

“This seems like a terrible idea.” Elowen mused, watching in some sense of amusement. The rope shook, and Radan pulled on it.

Out came Jay, like a fucking rabbit from a hat, appertaining from nowhere and clamoring out of the hole and onto safe, normal ground. Toast, watching with some sense of unbridled joy, stuck his hand in, then out, then in again, then out again, and did that about a hundred more times before bouncing back next to Radan.

“Well?” Radan asked expectantly.

Jay tried to say something, sighed, then grabbed her journal and after a bit of digging around, throwing random objects out to the side (including what looked like two the dragon’s fucking teeth?), a piece of charcoal. The pen must’ve fell out during the fight. She quickly scribbled out a note, and flashed it to Radan and the rest of the staring group.

{It’s just a hole.}

_Oh. Huh._

“Maybe, uh, you should take your weird magic item and keep it to yourself.” Tipsy said, eying Rowan and Fallon, the latter of which stared at the hole with sliight intrigue.

“Ironhaveners are rather skittish,” Elowen met Fallon’s gaze, who quickly and sheepishly averted his eyes, “I agree with Tipsy.”

Radan shrugged, and bunched up the hole/fabric/whatever, tucking it back into their bag. As they did so, Beetle turned back to Fallon, grinning.

“Interested in the magic hole, huh.” Beetle winked.

Fallon slowly turned his eyes. “Usually, I’d be into this sorta thing, but I’ve been through a lot today, so if you could just...lay off please, that’d be great.”

With an extremely smug look, Beetle turned to Rowan, and loudly called, “Rowan! Are you interested in the magic hole?”

“No I don’t wanna see the fuckin’ magic hole.” Rowan shot back, not bothering to glance at Beetle. He placed on hand on Fallon’s shoulder, and shook his head. “Just ignore him, he’s just an ass.”

“Aww, don’t worry Fallon,” Beetle cooed in the most condescending manner possible, “Your boyfriend just has a stick up his ass. He just can’t be fun, like us.”

Elowen tried to intervene, but no one paid much attention to him as Fallon froze. It was a tense second as Fallon looked between Beetle and Rowan, utter shock on his face. And then, laughter. Blissful, blissful laughter, and the relief in knowing the prince wasn’t about to get the lot killed for whatever bullshit Beetle had pulled. Fallon laughed and laughed, practically chocking on his own spit as he just lost it.

“You think-you think he’s my-” Fallon couldn’t hope to compose himself. He rammed his elbow into Rowan, smiling from ear to ear, “You-you hear this guy?”

That was all it took for Rowan to lose his composure, whether from stress or just finding Beetle that hilarious. “Yeah, I know!”

It took a few minutes for Fallon to even try and calm down. Finally, practically gasping for air, he turned back to Beetle. “That was really good. Thank you, I needed that.”

Beetle gave another sultry wink and a small shrug. “I have all the solutions.”

“He does not.” Tipsy said without even looking up.

“I am _very_ single.” Fallon tried to stifle the final remnants of his giggle fit.

“...Are you ready to mingle?” Beetle’s voice lowered by an octave.

“Uh, at the moment no, but I mean-”

“Can we please just make it back to the inn?” Elowen groaned, staring off at the distance. The arm that held the shield still cradled by the one that was bit into. She couldn’t help but wince seeing his arm just...crumpled like that, even knowing he had said it was just cosmetic damage. It felt wrong to see a knight so valiant injured like that, even if it was part of the job. If she hadn’t been so slow, she could’ve pushed him out of range for the attack, she could’ve handled it herself. Gods knew he needed both arms way more than she did.

Next time, maybe.

Would there be a next time?

Her hand curled into a fist.

There would be a next time.

“Um...Elowen, right?” Tipsy asked, less expecting an answer and more to get the knight’s attention. “When we get back to Belimar, would you-can I talk to you for a moment?”

The paladin took a moment to actually process those words, and finally nodded. “...I suppose.”

“G-great, um,” Tipsy turned to face Rowan and Fallon at the front, “How much longer do we have until we get back to Belimar?”

“Got about fifteen more minutes. Been making pretty good time here, this horse is uh, pretty fuckin’ scared.” Rowan patted the horse on the side. “Shouldn’t be much longer now.”

A brief bout of nothing, ruined once again by Beetle.

“So, who was that guy we fought, exactly?” Beetle asked, making small motions with his hand. “I don’t remember him at all.”

“That was Merrick, Beetle, he owned the potions shop that you got…,” Elowen looked very done with the conversation, “High in. I had to carry you out, you tried to knock-well, you did knock Rowan to the floor and got your claws stuck in his chainmail. Do you really remember none of that?”

Fallon stifled a laugh.

“Absolutely not,” Beetle crossed his legs, tail swishing side to side, “But I mean, hey, this Merrick’s place sounds fun. We should go back there.”

Radan nudged Jay, grinning. “Can actually be of some help and come with me to take a few potions. Think of it like an estate sale.”

{Not stealing if the fucker’s already dead.} Jay flashed up.

Ignoring their clear criminal intent, Fallon looked to the side, brow furrowed. “Merrick...Merrick...that’s not someone I know, is it? No...”

“Well, he was the guy holdin’ you hostage.” Radan scoffed.

“Oh-oh! Him! Haha, that must’ve been...bad for business...because...because he’s dead now...um, anyways, you said you’re gonna steal some potions? That sounds like fun! I’ve never done that before.” Fallon had the stupidest little smile on his face, still wrapped tightly in the cloak.

“Are you joining us?” Beetle’s grin got a little wider.

“You can come if you want.” Radan kept a close eye on the prince, who seemed stunned that he was even being asked.

Fallon looked absolutely delighted, then extremely guilty as he looked at Rowan. The guard sighed, and turned to Fallon, looking completely done with the prince. Or maybe just done with life, either one, who could blame him?

“I don’t care.” Rowan finally said, and Fallon pumped his fist in the air.

“I’ve never been outside of Greymouth like, ever!” Fallon half-whispered, a little more relaxed and a lot more excited than he had been before, “I went out like, once? When I was ten, so I really haven’t been out in like, forever.”

“Great, your second time out of Greymouth and you’re going to commit a crime, Fallon.” Elowen piped up, not bothering to even look at the prince.

“Fallon? More like Felon, am I right?” Radan made small finger guns around the cart. Fallon snorted in an extremely un-princely manner, and Beetle playfully swiped at Radan, laughing his ass off.

“I was about to make that joke!” Beetle cried as he made joking shots at Radan, “No fair!”

“Hah! That’s a good one!” Fallon wiped a few tears from his eyes, “I’ve never heard that one before! Do you know how hard it is to try and ‘be good’ and ‘be princely’ all the time at the castle? It’s exhausting!”

“Uh…,” Radan thought for a moment, “No? I don’t know? Never been a prince.”

“I know you guys probably haven’t but I’ve never-” Fallon was interrupted by Elowen finally breaking his gaze off the horizon.

“I do.” Elowen said simply, sounding slightly annoyed. He looked like he couldn’t wait to get off the cart, and Tipsy really couldn’t blame him at this point. It was funny, she realized, how rude and ill-behaved she was when she was actually trying to make a good impression from here on out.

Jay, who had been quietly watching the theatrics go down, whipped out three daggers and began to juggle, because of course she did. Ziggy gave a small yelp and scooted closer to Tipsy, but with expert precision Jay kept control of the daggers as they whizzed through the air. Fallon looked upon the scene with amazement, eyes sparkling.

“Wow, that’s impressive talent! Were you part of a circus?”

The daggers slammed into the wood.

“O-oh, sorry, did I hit a nerve?” Fallon asked nervously, watching Jay’s expression completely sour. A touchy subject, clearly. Jay grabbed the daggers and tucked them away, then sat there, stone faced, in her usual silence. “Uh, s...sorry...”

Beetle spared one half-concerned glance at Jay, then turned right back to Fallon. “So first we’re gonna rob this place, and then, we’re going to torch it. Just completely get our revenge and burn the shop to the ground.”

“Uh-” Tipsy cleared her throat, “Speaking of revenge, you’re not suffering from any burns, are you?”

_Like, say, from being in a cart set on fire._

“Um…,” Fallon looked over himself, and shook his head, “No, I’m, I’m quite alright, actually, all things considered...I feel bad that I made it out as well as I did with those other villagers who...didn’t make it. I would-”

“You don’t need to feel bad for simply being alive.” Elowen cut in, “There’s no shame in that. I understand the need to sacrifice yourself for your country and people, but you are still a person, it’s okay to stay alive.”

Fallon inhaled deeply, Tipsy only then realizing the bags under his eyes and how tired he looked. “For as much as I complain about being a prince, I would give life and limb for my people.”

“As any good prince would.” Elowen drummed his fingers against his leg, making a light noise that sounded like little bells. Tipsy wondered if anyone had ever looked into armor as an instrument.

“...Thank you.” Fallon shifted around, shrugging a little.

“So…you must be next in line then? Fallon, was it?” Tipsy asked.

“Yes, it’s uh, Prince Fallon Archeron the Second. I am the first heir of Ironhaven, it’s um, quite a weight on my shoulders.” Fallon nodded along absentmindedly.

Elowen stopped tapping against his armor, and looked up again. “I don’t suppose I can talk to you tomorrow morning...I think I have something rather interesting to discuss.”

Fallon gave a light laugh. “Seems I’m quite the man of the hour...um, I’ll uh, have to see how I feel tomorrow but...”

“Well, we were just talking about giving life and limb for our people. I would do the same for mine. You might be a valuable asset in making that happen.” Elowen briefly looked back to the horizon, before finally forcing himself to meet Fallon.

“What would you...um, I don’t believe I caught your name?” Fallon tilted his head, hesitant and confused.

Elowen gave a deep sigh, and straightened up. “I am Elowen von Iris, of Hammershire.”

“Of-of Hammershire?” The prince suddenly sounded very, _very_ excited. “Wait a sec...Elowen! Elowen the Valiant! I’ve read about your escapades!”

For fuck’s sake, even this prince knew who Elowen was?

“Oh, have you?” Elowen didn’t sound very enthused.

“Yes! Yes, uh, I’ve read about it when it was first announced that you defeated uh...um...”

“Mersky.”

“Mersky, yes! That was quite a feat, I must say.” Fallon bobbed up and down, rubbing his hands together and grinning from ear to ear.

“It certainly was...” Elowen shifted around, seemingly rather uncomfortable with the attention.

“Was it now?” Radan hissed out. Elowen gave a light slap and a slight hush in Radan’s general direction.

“Um, it’s quite interesting that you’re in Ironhaven right now, with uh...all that’s going on in your country.” Fallon laced his fingers together, tone slowly going from excited and overjoyed to nervous and apprehensive.

“I am perfectly aware of all that, but I have my reasons for being in Ironhaven. I am eager to return to Hammershire as soon as I can, but I can’t go back yet.”

“Yeah it’s...with everything going I know you’ve all had a... _rough_ time. I-I feel responsible for all of the pain and suffering that’s been going on because of…,” Fallon lowered his voice to be barely audible, “My father.”

“Part of what I wanted to discuss with you tomorrow morning. I was hoping you could put a stop to this senseless violence. Your father is a fool thinking that by taking on my country he’ll eventually snuff out magic in Erora. The old fool doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.” Elowen spat, with venom laced in every word. Well, he definitely had high expectations for the prince; but what could a prince like Fallon do?

“I wish I could help more than I can, but alas, my father doesn’t think of me too fondly. I already have views that differ his, which makes everything so much more difficult, and now with this new discovery of my... _condition_ , it’s just getting harder to find myself in his good graces.” Fallon mumbled nervously.

“May be difficult for you, but it may work out in my favor. If we could, perhaps,” Elowen paused for a moment, “Form a rather unlikely alliance. The hero of Hammershire and the prince of Ironhaven, I think that would cause quite a stir.”

_The hero?_

“A-uh-uh-A-A-A stir it would cause,” Fallon finally managed to get a grasp on words again, “I...I don’t know how comfortable I feel with um...doing that.”

“I promise I would offer you my highest level of protection.”

“Would you offer it to my family as well? My sister, especially.” Fallon kept glancing around, as if at any moment the king would appear before them and punt the prince into the sky.

“Will your sister take your side? Would she choose you over your father?” A tense question for an increasingly tense mood.

“Of course,” Fallon nodded confidently, “We’ve been close since we were young.”

Elowen thought for a moment. “Then my protection I will extend to her as well. If I am going to return to Hammershire I am going to return with a way of victory. I am going to liberate my people from your father’s forces.”

“Well I hope you uh...keep in mind the people of Ironhaven themselves as you blaze your way to victory.” Fallon looked at the ground, slowly turning from well trodden dirt paths to slightly fancier cobblestones.

“Please rest assured I will do...I did everything to save the people here in Belimar, in your country, please know I would apply that same care and more to the rest. But right now, my people are the only thing that matter to me.” Elowen said with such conviction and such...such…assurance, that even Tipsy, who only half remembered her trip through Hammershire and was eager to get out of that meadowy hellhole, felt moved.

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. I would give everything to make sure that my sister is safe.” Fallon twiddled his thumbs.

“That’s quite noble of you. It’s nice to hear that there’s some compassion left in the Ironhaven royal line.” A back handed compliment from Elowen, but still, a complement, and one Fallon seemed happy with.

“Yes, it’s-it’s been a long time coming that I reflect on my previous actions a-and actually start to take a real step forward. You know, I’ve had a lot of ups and downs in my life and I know Rowan’s seen it all-”

Rowan let out a huff and rolled his eyes.

“And um, I’ll...think about it.” Fallon finished, fingers now completely interweaved with one another. Could he even feel his hands? He was gripping them so tightly…

“Growth and compassion are important in a ruler,” Elowen sounded a little more upbeat than before, “Make sure you never lose those things, or you’ll lead yourself to nothing but downfall.”

“I-I’ll try my best,” a light flush overcame Fallon’s face, “I’ll take whatever constructive criticism I can get from a mighty paladin of Hammershire.”

“A _mighty_ paladin?” Tipsy echoed, without really meaning too.

Beetle snorted. “Migh-ty in-deed...”

A hush fell over them as they saw the first few buildings. Ahead began a crowd, a swarm of villagers, surrounding the two stopped carts. Heads began to pop through windows, and people began to clap, then cheer, then scream like their life depended on it. She could see some villagers already in a warm embrace with one another, while others, looking far less jovial, looked over the bodies of the dead and wiped away their tears. But even the ones who had lost so much ( _it’s your fault it’s your fault you could’ve saved them it’s your fault_ ) began to smile as they saw Rowan ride into Belimar, Fallon sure to tighten his hood and obscure his face as much as possible. There was so much noise and commotion, it was hard to focus, and it felt like a mere blink of the eye before they, somehow, had made it into the center of the town, by the Marigold Inn.

People parted as Clover skipped up, hands over her heart.

“Radan!” She cried, waving a dish towel in the air. “You made it home! I knew those sandwiches would do the trick!”

Clover peered into the cart, noticing the half crumpled basket of uneaten sandwiches by Toast’s feet.

“Oh they’re still there. Well, they’re there for good luck anyway!” Clover sighed, smiling, teeth practically sparkling even under the moonlight. Fallon looked over to the basket, suddenly looking rather interested, and Elowen, completely exhausted, handed the prince the basket. The prince only had a second to tuck it under his cloak before Rowan ushered him off the cart, briefly whispering to Clover before the two rushed into the Marigold, going unnoticed by the townsfolk, who had surrounded the cart entirely cheering.

It was definitely a lot.

While some seemed to enjoy the attention-Beetle, mainly-, others didn’t seem to react at all. Ziggy sat there, completely still, staring off into the nothingness before a large human man rushed up to him and extended his hand out for a handshake.

“Thank you!” The man said, motioning to a slightly disheveled looking gnome woman and what must have been their child, “You saved my wife and daughter, I don’t know what I would have done without them!”

Ziggy weakly took the man’s hand, giving a strange, half hearted sort of shake.

“Well thank you very much, you and all of your friends have done a great work for Belimar. I’m sure the law master will greatly appreciate it, I know I do.” In the distance, the man’s wife called for him-either a ‘Henry’ or a ‘Harry’, Tipsy wasn’t sure. Human names were always so weird.

The man had just turned when Ziggy snapped out of his trance and hollered, “Wait!”

“Yes?” The man turned around again.

Ziggy took a deep breath, and grinned. “Tell them it was Ziggle B’lim Floop who saved them.”

Oh, poor human man, he looked so confused. “I-I’m sorry, the crowd is awfully loud-you said Ziggle Beem Flap?”

Tipsy tried to hide her laugh as Ziggy stomped his foot down.

“JUST CALL ME ZIGGY! ZIGGY’S A HERO AND HE SAVED YOU!” Ziggy yelled. The man scurried back to his wife, but took a moment to call behind him-

“I will do that, Zoggy!”

For all the day’s events, that one moment almost made everything worth it. Zoggy the hero, savior of Belimar. Well, couldn’t be anyworse than Ziggy, though Elowen may-

_Oh fucking hells Elowen._ Tipsy looked around, finally spotting the knight making his way towards the inn. She rushed up, pushing a few people out of the way, and just managed to nudge him before he could go any further. He had been waving to the crowd, mumbling something under his breath that sorta sounded like-

“It’s nice to feel like a hero again...oh, what-”

He looked behind him. Frozen to the spot for a moment, Tipsy pointed to a small side alley by the Marigold, possibly the same alley Jay’s stuff was found (or, not found) in.

“Tipsy? Ah yes,” Elowen snapped his fingers, “You wanted to speak with me?”

She nodded silently. They shuffled through the crowd to the alley-a few people staring, but her own glare managed to scare them off.

“So…,” Tipsy bit her lip, “Elowen the Valiant, then? Must be...must of been pretty important back where you are.”

Elowen took a few moments, staring not at Tipsy but at the ground, still covered in grime and ash. “I am, pretty important, yes.”

“And-and that Mersky, they’re not dead, are they?”

Elowen said something, something too quietly for Tipsy to hear.

“I…Look, once Ziggy regains whatever senses he has, he’s not going to leave you alone. This wasn’t a one day kinda thing, teach him how to be a hero and leave him alone, he’s going to follow you. So it doesn’t really matter what I say, but what I say is that-”

_Here we go._

“I think we share something in common, and I want to help-I’m-I’m not very good help, I’m pretty much hopeless, but I want to help you on your quest.” Tipsy finally managed to sputter out, feeling very stupid all of a sudden.

Elowen, at least, didn’t immediately laugh in her face and tell her to fuck off, like Tipsy was half expecting. “I appreciate your offer to help me. And I’m not going to let Ziggy down, I said I would be a mentor and I may have failed myself but I’m not going to fail him. And while my journey is to atone for my own mistakes, I...”

_He’s gonna yell at you why did you do this you’re so stupid what use would he even have-_

“Wouldn’t mind the company, if you would like to come along.”

_...Huh._

Maybe he was just waiting for a more private place to laugh and mock her at, who knew.

“I myself say you can’t be a hero alone, and here I am, trying to fight the world by myself...” Elowen let out a light chuckle, leaning against the brick walls.

“Yeah...I think…,” Tipsy felt her hands begin to shake, and a weight in her chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how deeply she breathed, “I think I have you all figured out, Von Iris. Or perhaps just Elowen?”

“Either or,” Elowen replied, gaze only half in the present, “I’m not really feeling like Elowen the Valiant right now, so anything but that.”

Tipsy shrugged. “I’d say you’re pretty valiant, I mean, the way you took down that dragon, it just...you’re a gift from the spirits, I suppose, I don’t know how else to describe you.”

“I don’t think I’m anything that special.” Elowen replied, quiet.

Tipsy resisted the urge to roll her eyes or correct the paladin. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see, but...that’s my offer, and I would like to help you. Ziggy’s gonna follow you anyways, and besides, I need to make sure he doesn’t set more shit on fire.”

“Yes, I suppose arson would be pretty bad.” Elowen spared a quick look at Beetle and Radan, currently talking to a few villagers and trying to worm their way back into the inn respectively. “Thank you. I guess I could use the company, but...Mersky is still my battle, and it’s my job to make up for what I did.”

If she was a little more eloquent, Tipsy would have an elegant response that could win awards. Instead, she stuttered again, “Well, I mean, you’re-you know, you’re one of the ‘somebodies’ I guess, you-I mean-you don’t need-”

She felt a vague pressure on her tusk, and didn’t even realize it was her own doing until she heard Elowen, voice filled with sudden concern.

“Don’t-”

“Yeah,” Tipsy interrupted, before he could change his mind, any and all previous confidence vanishing in seconds, “That’s all I wanted to say.”

Like a true coward, metaphorical tail between her legs, Tipsy scurried off. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, she didn’t want to give him the chance ot change his mind, she just needed-

Her stomach growled.

Dinner, maybe. Tipsy licked her lips. Yeah, dinner sounded good.

She slowly made her way to the front of the inn, where Clover excitedly talked to the rest of the gang-she was half away of Elowen following behind her, but tried not to pay attention to that.

“We were going to have a feast later, perhaps tonight or tomorrow, would you like to come? It’s in your honor, of course!” Clover looked around to gage interest.

“I’m up for a feast whenever,” though the way Tipsy kept almost nodding off seemed to disagree, “How much ale is gonna be there?”

“I suppose I can stay for a little while, but I am rather tired.” Elowen gestured to his arm, still limply hanging to the side, “I would really like to rest more than anything.”

Clover cringed seeing the injury. “That’s quite the nasty scratch ya got there.”

“Ah, yes well I did get crunched on by a dragon.” Elowen sighed, head hung low.

Gasping, Clover moved to cover her mouth. “Oh my goodness, you fought a dragon?”

“I…,” Elowen thought for a moment, “I suppose I did slay a dragon, with help.”

“Also,” Radan chuckled nervously, “We may have killed your potion seller.”

Clover whipped her head towards Radan. Slowly, going about a millimeter a minute, she blinked, expression somewhat blank but caught between suspicion and confusion. “Radan...” She asked slowly, tilting her head to the side, “What?”

“Oh, ehm, you know that absolute piece of work of a man, Merrick, the one that ran the potion shop...down the...street...” Radan looked very shy, half hiding into themselves as they tried-and failed-to escape Clover’s gaze.

“So that’s his name! Merrick!”

“Yeah, uh,” Radan shook their head, “Not anymore. We absolutely killed him.”

“He was evil, though,” Tipsy cut in, hoping they weren’t about to all get arrested for murder, “So I mean-”

“To be fair, yeah, he was not a nice guy, and he was kinda holding the prince hostage, so...” Radan trailed off.

“Oh, right,” Clover looked around and leaned in a little closer, whispering, and began to motion the group inside the inn, “Let’s be a little quieter about that, okay? Um...yes, but Merrick, I never really saw him around all that often. He’s only been in town for a little while, a couple months maybe, and uh, he’s-he was always quiet and mostly stayed in his shop, or like, his shop will be closed for a week or more. It wasn’t very often that his shop was consistently open, you know? Err, but he’s the reason behind all of this?”

“Honestly I’m not entirely sure,” Radan made sure to shut the door behind them as the last of the group members walked in, “If he’s the real reason behind all of it, but he certainly played a part.”

“A pretty important part, if you ask me,” Beetle said, despite the fact that no asked him, “I mean, seemed like the ringleader to this whole operation.”

Elowen sighed, and gave Clover a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “But I believe Belimar is safe from any immediate danger.”

“Uhm, right, but, you said he was buddies with a dragon? Gosh, I haven’t seen a dragon in uh...it’s been a hot minute since I’ve last seen one, especially ‘round these parts.” Clover nervously wrung her dishcloth.

“Well,” Beetle batted his eyes, “Gonna be a hot minute more, that thing aint getting up.”

“Haha, yes, thank you for getting rid of it, though I know most dragons just kinda fly over and scare some of the youngin’s but they usually don’t attack...I’m just happy you lot made it home safely, especially you Radan.” Clover smiled, “Not to play favorites but...”

“It’s okay, I know I’m your favorite.” Radan met the smile with their own.

Back in the far corner, Rowan leaned against the wall, watching Fallon devouring a sandwich. Or at least, what a sandwich was in Ironhaven-small, fluffy slices of bread smushed together with some kind of sticky coating-a jam or jelly, maybe, though it was hard to tell from so far away. Clover watched the prince basically vacuum the sandwich in one go, both impressed and bemused, and motioned to him.

“So that’s the prince, huh,” Clover peered over, “Didn’t really get a good look at him, he went right into his room when you guys left. Rowan seemed pretty shaken when he first came in, something about a privacy breech...but I’m really just glad everyone’s back where they belong. I do believe bran should be coming by rather soon. Would you guys like some drinks? Or maybe some dinner? You probably haven’t eaten since breakfast…I’m still surprised to see you all back so soon!”

“Yeah, same, honestly. You read about it in the books and it takes people weeks to get anywhere but here we are! Back again!” Tipsy swayed to the left for a second, just barely able to catch herself and straighten up. More tired than she realized.

“I know,” Clover laughed, “Real life is crazy! It only took you the day! Alright, I’m just gonna grab a round of beer and a plate of bread, then...”

Clover hurried into the back. Fallon watched the innkeeper walk into the kitchen, then turned around, cheeks stuffed with sandwich and face smeared with some kind of orange-ish, tan-ish substance.

Rowan smacked Fallon’s arm. “Where are your manners!? It’s not like you’ve learned them all your life, Prince.”

Fallon said something that may have been ‘I’m sorry’-it was hard to tell with the giant sandwich in his mouth, and did his best to chew and swallow the behemoth. He wiped his mouth with Rowan’s cape, earning another slap from Rowan, to which Fallon yelped and did his best to rub the creamy remnants onto the side of the bar.

“Have you ever...had a sandwich?” Tipsy just had to know, with the way the prince was acting like he had met all the gods and this was his gift. “Because neither have I, can I have one?”

“I’ve had sandwiches before, but they were super tiny, and you only ever have them with tea, I’ve never had anything of these-oh, and sure! Go ahead.” Fallon dumped a few of the sandwiches out of the bag and onto the bar. Tipsy eagerly and greedily grabbed two sandwiches, shoving them into her mouth without a second thought.

_Oh_ , Tipsy chewed, _Oh these are good._

It was sweet, a little squishy, sugary grape jam with some sort of crunchy, slightly salty nut spread-peanuts, maybe? She kind of remembered trying roasted peanuts at a small stand near the border, and-oh, huh, there was a hint of some kind of other fruit in there as well. Banana?

Maybe it was just the exhaustion or the hunger, but it was delicious.

Fallon looked at Tipsy, and back to the sandwiches. “...Anyone else?”

Radan snatched one. Beetle didn’t take it, but he did use the request as an excuse to slide right next to Fallon, staring deep into his eyes. A little too deeply, as Beetle narrowed his own eyes and made a half-frown.

“Can you look at me real fast?” Beetle asked, clearly confused. Rowan, brow furrowed in concern, walked over, and also peered over to take a good look at Fallon’s face. “Just, you know, super quick.”

Without waiting for a response, Beetle grabbed Fallon by his puffy hamster cheeks and forced his head over.

“You see that too, right?” Beetle asked Rowan, who went from concerned to, well, very concerned.

“Yeah, what’s that about...” Rowan scratched his head, “I don’t...”

Fallon, appearing very nervous, darted his eyes between Rowan and Beetle. “What’s going on?”

“It uh, might be a little obvious if you go home or anything, ehm...” Beetle gave a lightning fast grimace, and glanced over to Elowen, who was also observing the seen. Elowen leaned in close, then stepped back, nodding to himself.

“You have magic in your blood now, it must be affecting your appearance. Yours eyes...are kind of glowing blue.” Elowen said calmly. Fallon, much less calm, whipped his head back.

“Actually, Elowen, can you come here for a second?” Beetle waggled a single finger. Sighing, Elowen came closer, angling himself so that Fallon could see his reflection.

Hypothetically, anyways. In actuality, Elowen’s armor was so filthy that Fallon, after a moment of trying to stare, sighed, grabbed the end of Rowan’s cloak, and began to shine the armor a little, pausing to make sure that was fine with the paladin. When Elowen nodded, Fallon made small circles, trying to get as much of the grime off as he could. Finally, after a lot of rubbing, Fallon was able to stare at the reflective armor, right into his eyes.

“AH!” Fallon screamed, flailing backwards. Rowan barely caught the prince before he could fall.

_Uhhhh_ “I mean, I didn’t notice it,” Tipsy took a sec to swallow the last of the sandwiches, “Maybe the king won’t notice it.”

“Pretty sure the king’s gonna notice.” Beetle tried to hold back his smirk as Fallon pulled up his hood, desperate to cover his eyes.

“Oh no, oh no, nonono!” Fallon was carefully guided back to his seat, and as soon as he and Rowan had sat down Fallon let his head fall onto Rowan’s lap.

Tipsy cringed watching the prince flail about like a helpless newborn lamb. “Blame Merrick, I dunno, I’m sure the king has the resources to fix that or whatever.”

“Fix it?,” Elowen scoffed, “The only way to fix it would be to get rid of his magic, and usually the only way to do that is to eradicate the mage itself. You may want to consider getting out of Ironhaven entirely for the time being.”

“Just because you want the prince to leave doesn’t mean that he-well-,” Tipsy stopped, lost in thoughts, and in the pause, Beetle began to furiously dig around in his bag, throwing all sorts of strange objects to the wayside.

Fallon sniffed, already beginning another round of sobs. “I’m not even supposed to be here!”

“Did you sneak out for the festival?” Radan asked, taking small, polite bites out of their own sandwich.

Rowan sighed wearily. “No...we were supposed to be here to pick up some people for a festival in Greymouth, the king’s having a big tournament of champions, and I told Fallon I was gonna go pick his team, but Fallon insisted-” Rowan gritted his teeth, “That he wanted to come, that he wanted to meet his team for himself, so I snuck him out of the palace and here we are.”

Under his breath, Elowen mumbled, “Ironhaven’s champion certainly wasn’t on my todo list either...”

Still digging around, Beetle also mumbled something, though it sounded like a string of curses more than anything else. Rowan leaned over with a vague amount of interest.

“What are you looking for?” Rowan asked.

Beetle elbowed Rowan in the face as he lifted out a small, velvety box from his bag.

“I found them.” Beetle announced, as if anyone know what ‘them’ was. Or were.

“Fuckin’ bastard...” Rowan muttered as he clutched his nose.

“So, they’re not the greatest, but just don’t make direct eye contact with anyone and you’ll be fine.” Not even looking at his would be victim, Beetle tossed the box over to Fallon, who didn’t even look up as the box bounced against his head and rolled onto the floor.

Rowan cautiously settled back down next to Fallon, and lightly tapped the prince’s head. “Knock knock.”

Fallon rubbed his eyes clear of tears. “What?”

“We’re trying to help you. Can you please sit up?” Rowan helped Fallon up, Fallon still half cradled in Rowan’s arms.

Finally taking his hood back off, Fallon asked, “What are you guys trying to do?”

“Well,” Rowan glanced back at the rest of the party, “We have a temporary solution, and I’m sure we’ll get a better one in Greymouth.”

“Get someone to teach you one of those fancy disguise spells and you’ll be all set.” Beetle twirled a strand of hair (fur?) around his finger, looking somewhat bored.

“I...well I don’t really know magic, I-,” Fallon sniffled, then tears began streaming out of his eyes like a damn waterfall, “All of this and now I have magic?! I’m already such a disappointment!”

“You’ve been through a lot tonight, Fallon,” Elowen said gently, “Maybe you should just get some rest.”

Rowan did his best to shush and pat Fallon, to no avail-the waterworks were really going now. “Shh, shh, it’s okay bud, come on, come on...”

“Hey hey hey! Come on,” Tipsy held her hands up, “You’re not a disappointment, _yet_. You haven’t even done anything wrong. No one has to know about this, so just-just go back, you’ll be fine. You can’t give up now, you still have so much! Just-”

“Listen, Tipsy,” Rowan shook his head, “You don’t know how things are at home. Honestly, it’s quite iffy, as you can probably guess Fallon the First is not a great father.”

“I’m a WHORE!” Fallon wailed.

Dead silence.

“...Please, Prince Fallon,” Elowen finally said, “Go get some rest for tonight. You’ll have a clearer head when you wake up in the morning.”

“Go tuck him in.” Radan made a light jab, looking awfully smug themselves.

Rowan sighed again, then looked down at Fallon, still leaning against him. “You’re right, I should go and tuck this baby in. Let’s go, Fallon.”

As slow as molasses, Rowan guided Fallon up, and with minimal stumbling, managed to push and prod the prince into heading up the stairs. Frankly, Tipsy was more amazed Rowan hadn’t just carried Fallon up. That’s what she wold have done-carried Fallon up there like a sack of potatoes. They heard quiet pitter-pattering of footsteps, and adjust before a door slammed-

“Oh thank the GODS,” Fallon cried, “My clothes are okay!”

“Our future ruler, everyone.” Radan took a sip from a glass.

Well, the prince of Ironhaven was definitely...something. “Are...princes normally like this?”

Radan held no hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Royalty can be a strange lot, I can tell you that,” Elowen snagged a sandwich from the counter, tucking it in...his armor? _Huh_. “It can be a mixed bag, you really have no idea what you’re going to get. But usually, they fall into the categories of stuck up snob or unrepentant whore.”

Holding an entire tray full of bread and ale, Clover set the goodies down on the table as she said, “Ooh, this is a spicy conversation! Here’s a round of ale, and my homemade bread-I added a bit of garlic, just to spice it up a little. Appetizers to tonight’s...uh...you know what, how about I get you a big brunch tomorrow and we’ll do the fest then, yeah?”

Yeah, that sounded good, and the silence seemed to agree.

“I’ll go and tell Bren, heh.” Clover gave an awkward wave and trotted out of the Marigold, leaving the party to their own thoughts. And boy, did Tipsy have, for better and for worse, a lot of thoughts.

Radan quietly took another piece of bread from the bread basket. “Well, I wasn’t kiddin’ about going to Merrick’s tomorrow, anyone else wanna come along?”

The door opened, and Bran walked in.

“Oh, so you all made it back! That’s lovely to see, I noticed you were able to get all the villagers back, even the...departed,” Bran cleared his throat, “It’s, it’s really quite amazing.”

“Yeah there’s...there’s a lot to catch you up on.” Tipsy looked at the floor, boots covered in dust.

“Really? Well, tell you what,” Bran surveyed the room, full of exhausted faces (except for Beetle, he seemed as peppy as ever), “It’s pretty late, I just came in to check on you all, Clover came in and said you were all pretty tired, so I will be pushing back the feast. How about you all just get a good night’s rest tonight, and we can discuss everything tomorrow morning, including payment.”

Tipsy turned back to Ziggy, nudging the small grung. “You wanna go up to our room, buddy?”

Ziggy, who had been playing with the little vial of whatever (poison, she presumed, though it looked just like water), yelped. “Uh-yeah, yeah, that sounds good.”

One by one, the group departed. Radan and Beetle following close behind. Evidently everyone just wanted to get some shuteye, after everything that happened. Gods, it was so much, it didn’t even feel real, just a blur of screaming, blood, and vague disappointment in her own actions. She didn’t get too far in her self-pity party, though, before Rowan stepped out of the suite at the end of the hall and shutting the door behind him, sighing.

He didn’t look very happy to see the rest of them.

“G...Goodnight?” He said, half asking, half pleading.

“Uh...same, I suppose,” Tipsy watched as Rowan leaned against the door, arms crossed, “You gonna guard for the whole night?”

“Yeah.” Rowan nodded.

“...You know they came in through the window last time, right?” Radan looked between Tipsy, barely able to hold in her laughter, and Rowan.

“We improvised.’

“How?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, and opened the door. The bed had been completely decimated, the wood from its frame used to board the window up with a million nails (where did they get the nails from?). Fallon laid on the mattress, curled into a small ball, completely oblivious to the creaking floorboards or the wind whistling in the distance.

“I won’t let him out of my sight again, that’s for sure.” Rowan huffed.

“Isn’t he already out of your sight? I mean, you’re guarding the door.” Beetle asked innocently.

“You know what,” Rowan’s face began to turn red, “I’m just gonna sit in the chair.”

With that, the door slammed in their faces. Tipsy heard one lock click, then another, and then another, and then quiet footsteps and snoring.

“So what happens if the place gets set on fire again? How will they escape?” Tipsy turned to Radan and Beetle.

Radan shrugged. “They don’t.”

A riveting conversation, and a good note to end on as Tipsy and Ziggy entered their bedroom, still exactly the way they left it. Well, no, the sheets had been folded, which was nice (did she have to leave a tip?), but otherwise, just the same cozy space, still getting a decent view of the night sky. Tipsy was tempted to just flop onto the bed and pass out right then and there, but something kept nagging her. She turned to Ziggy, who was removing his cape and getting his little basin of water ready, and tapped against the wall to get his attention.

“Are you alright, Ziggy?” Tipsy gingerly asked, hoping she sounded concerned.

“Of course I am!” Ziggy scoffed, “I’ve never felt better! I don’t know what would make you think otherwise, uhhhhhI am going to bed!”

Water splashed up and onto the floor as Ziggy plopped into the basin.

“Uh, alright then…,” Tipsy said with one eyebrow raised, “We’ll be following with Elo-Von Iris and Ra...Ro….Ra….Ro...Ra...Ro….whatever, the others, and I extended my help to them so I wouldn’t be in any conflict with your ‘heroic mentorship’ or whatever.”

“I suppose not,” Ziggy replied flippantly, “I really only came for shiny gold man, but I suppose the others can stay? Although I don’t really care for Buttle.”

There was a rap on the wall, and a familiar voice pipped up. “That’s really rude, I’m _right_ _here_. But, I’ll forgive you, if you buy me a new lute.”

“NEVER, YOU FURRY PIECE OF SHIT!” Ziggy screamed with all the theatrics in the world, more water splashing up and hitting the cheap wallpaper that had been half-scorched in the previous fires. There was a thump, probably Beetle punching the wall right back, and Ziggy, furious, dove into his water basin, bubbles rising up at a rapid pase and Ziggy screamed into the water like one would scream into a pillow. It was hilarious, and at the very least, Tipsy could say she went to be d l

augh in

g

.

.

.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry please stop I’m sorry forgive me please please I don’t like this I’m sorry just don’t please don’t don’t I’m so sorry I never should have-ugh_

_Light._

_Light?_

Tipsy opened her eyes.


	6. Mosaic Mind

Her eyes hurt.

The floor was cold, and dim light hit her eyes. She tried to close them again, presuming it was another dream, just another stupid dream, but the groans and snores of her companions around her forced Tipsy to sit up. She was shivering, confused, and somewhere that was most definitely not the Marigold Inn. There was the faint sound of wind chimes, though this was almost totally drowned out by the howling of the wind around them. But the walls her dark, in fact, everything was dark-it was if they were in a void of some sort.

Tipsy had dreams like this before, but never with other people. Or at least, not these people.

Radan moaned, slowly forcing themselves up. They looked about the same as they did the night before, in fact, everyone did, down to the beads of water rolling down (and quickly, if a bit disturbingly, being absorbed by) Ziggy’s skin from his usual sleep baths. Shit, Beetle was wearing a fucking nightgown, and a quaint little sleeping cap.

No one acted as they were supposed to in dreams or nightmares. No one turned into a thousand armed monster, no one repeated Tipsy’s past sins that they would have no way of knowing, they acted as confused and weirded out as Tipsy felt.

“What the…?” Tipsy muttered. Fractal rays of colorful light hit her arm, and almost on cue, Radan, noticing the light, and Tipsy looked up at the same time.

Maybe they were there before, maybe they just emerged from the void. But six huge stained glass window panes stood before the motley crew. Tipsy forced herself to stand, Radan shooting a hand out and helping her to her feet as the others finally roused.

“Ghh-Travel slave! Where are we!?” Ziggy demanded as he leapt up, but she could give no answers. “What are you looking aaaaooooooooooh….”

A large pasture with a mountain range in the distance, a figure missing from the middle.

As a storm raged behind an ominous temple, a figure held something up, something that was missing.

In a quaint forest garden, a red and blue figure knelt as they held another missing object.

Tipsy was sensing that there was a theme here.

Staged across from one another, two figures held their fists up, a very familiar belt missing a very, very familiar belt buckle.

A jester juggled balls of flames coating sharp daggers in front of a crowd, but one of the balls-at least, Tipsy presumed it would be a flaming dagger-was missing.

Some small gray figure sat in a tree, holding something close to them, that was, again, once and for all this time, _missing_.

“Is this some kind of dream?” Radan glanced back at Tipsy and the others, eyes wide. Jay shook her head; Tipsy mumbled out a quiet _I hope so_ , but wasn’t sure if she actually said it or if she just thought it. Beetle was utterly unbothered, like usual, only boredom and a hint of annoyance in his expression.

Jay paused, walked up to Radan, and pinched them. Radan rolled their eyes, snapping their hand away.

“Does anybody remember getting to this place?” They asked, clearly hoping for some kind of an answer.

They got an answer, at least, just not a useful one.

“Absolutely not,” Tipsy shook her head furiously, “I think I would remember that. Ugh-what the _fuck_ -it’s practically blinding in here, gods.”

“I can’t believe they managed to move me without waking me, I’m always vigilant!” Ziggy puffed his chest out and crossed his arms, Tipsy getting flashbacks to when he passed out in a Hammershire tavern toilets and Tipsy had to carry him five miles in the middle of the night while being chased by a both amused and bemused tavern owner. Vigilant, sure.

“This has to be a dream, right? Like, none of you are real,” Tipsy observed the others-they looked...pretty accurate to life, but that illusion had to break soon, “And I’m just gonnOW!”

Jay leapt back as her pinch made shockwaves through Tipsy’s body. For such a skinny person Jay sure was stronger than she looked.

“Ow-ow! Okay, I felt that, thanks!” Tipsy glared. She was about to say more when Ziggy, apparently very inspired, slapped her leg repeatedly with his little sticky hands. “OW! FUCK! Jeezuss Kriezt, Ziggy, what the hell!?”

Still lounged on the ground, Beetle slowly moved his eyes around the room and the quickly unfolding comedy routine. “I mean we were sleeping, so I have to assume so? _Weird_.”

“Could you get up?” Radan lightly bomped the back of Beetle’s head with their hoof. Beetle clearly felt the hit, but pretended to ignore it for a second longer before finally standing, stretching out like taffy.

Tipsy looked back at the stained glass panes. Each one glowed with a soft light, but she didn’t see any exits, nor any clear sources of light-what kind of room was this?

“Does anyone maybe, recognize these?”

As she asked that, there was another distinct glow from behind, and the wind began to pick up. Slowly, cautiously (except Beetle), the group turned, each one bracing for a fight (again, except Beetle), Tipsy already having her hands curled into fists as she couldn’t feel her staff anywhere.

Six pedestals stood before them, just a few feet away. Okay, those definitely weren’t there before-there was no way, someone surely would have noticed the pedestals. On each pedestal lay a small chunk of stained glass, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that these were the missing pieces; a small brown calf, curled into a ball, an ornate sword, a swirl of flame, _her_ fucking belt buckle with that funny looking face on it, a dagger surrounded by fire, and a harp.

“This seems a bit...worriedly in character. You don’t think those happen to be the missing pieces, do you?” Radan asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. They were a funny one, at least.

“Do you think that putting them back will make us wake up from whatever the fuck this is?” Tipsy glanced between the pieces and the panes. An ominous feeling sunk deep into the pit of their stomach, and something told Tipsy that this dream was a lot more important-even, a lot more dangerous-than she could even realize.

“Ehm, I guess it’s worth a try, innit?” Radan shrugged.

Beetle, never one to listen to social cues to slow down and wait, began to walk towards the pedestals, tail swaying side to side. Not about to undone by the tabaxi, Tipsy began to quickly approach as well.

As they stepped forward, Radan gave another glance around the strange, strange room. “This kinda brings up the question though, where’s Elowen?”

“I...”

Tipsy looked around.

“You’re right. He’s….huh.” she frowned, biting her lip, “Well, I guess we can’t worry about that right now, we’ll just have to swing back around and put the sword in its right place.”

Jumping at the opportunity (either to be first or to show off), Beetle snatched the harp right off its pedestal. “Hmm, I wonder which way it goes.” He trotted towards the far right stained glass window.

Radan took the sword, some sort of wistfulness in their face as they turned to spot Jay attempting to lift the calf to its right position. Tipsy, after a moment of debilitation between what pieces were left, grabbed the ball of flame.

“Hey! I said dibs!” Ziggy cried. “I-ugh, fine, but I’m taking the flaming dagger.”

Unsure of what to expect, with their piece in hand, Radan walked over the mural of the paladin. They held the glass sword up, and whatever they had expected, they definitely didn’t think the piece, as if controlled by some invisible force, would leap out of their hands and snap into the missing chasm. A golden light shined through the cracks, far brighter than the other colors of the mural, and the stained glass came to life. Literally, as lightning cracked in the scene and the knight swayed the sword to and fro, rain pelting down on him.

If Tipsy wasn’t so freaked out, she would have been impressed. But she was pretty freaked out, so she hurried to the mural of the red figure in the garden. The ball of flame snapped right into position, spinning and swirling around as birds chirped and bees buzzed by, and a red glow overtook the panel.

“That’s some fancy magic right there.” Tipsy said, unsure whether she was in awe or not. “Let’s just try to finish this up and hope we don’t go blind.”

There was a puff of anger. Jay stood on her tiptoes, trying to put the calf into place, but just a little too short to get it in. Radan sighed.

“Do you need help?” They asked, kneeling down. With a curt nod, Jay propped herself onto Radan’s knee, using their horns as an extra boost. The calf finally floated into place, a green light surrounding the calf as the individual blades of grass depicted in the window began to sway in the breeze.

_Some seriously fancy magic…_

“Pssh, buncha chumps.” Ziggy rolled his eyes. With a burst of speed, he went down very, very low, then jumped into the air, practically throwing the flaming dagger piece at the glass. While this normally would’ve resulted in about a thousand million tiny pieces of glass embedded into everyone’s feet and an arrest, the piece simply snapped it. The jester came to life in front of her adoring fans, the flames and daggers bouncing up and down to a very faint beat as an orange glow took over.

With some curiosity, Beetle, watching all of this, turned back to his mural-the one of the grey figure in the tree. He sauntered right up and popped the piece in. Purple light emitted as the figure began to play the harp, animated musical notes happily floating through the scene.

_Thank the gods_ , Tipsy thought with relief, _Just one panel left._

But if the sword was already in place, then that meant…

“Tipsy, do you want to do the honors?” Radan asked. Oh, maybe this was a nightmare after all.

She looked between the piece and the panel. It was just a stupid stained glass window-but the memories-they had to do it to get out of this hellish dream-but that day-all Radan needed was for her to do one simple task-but HER-

“You know, I think you can handle this.” Tipsy said quickly, looking down at the faintly scratched and slightly filthy, real belt buckle around her waist.

“Okay, well,” Radan gave another shrug, walking back and easily grabbing the buckle, “If you insist.”

She heard the piece click into place, and a vibrant blue covered her entirely, but Tipsy didn’t dare look up. She didn’t need to know, and she didn’t need to see.

Apparently whoever was in charge decided she didn’t need to see either, as the light in the room got brighter and brighter. It was a rainbow of tints, tones, and shades-lavender and scarlet, ochre and emerald, azure and royal gold...soon it was blinding, and as everyone covered their eyes, it stopped.

It was dark yet again.

The wind had stopped. Tipsy could barely even make out the others, absolutely no light whatsoever. What the fuck? They had done the stupid puzzle, put all the pieces in their right place, why hadn’t she woken up yet?

There was the slight echoing of wind chimes. They got louder, and louder, until a pillar emerged, a single sort of spotlight shining down on it. On the pillar was an extremely large tome, maybe six foot by four, ridiculously thick, bound in purples, blues, and whites. In the center of bright purple leather was a giant blue stone, with what looked like a galaxy of stars inside, encircled by an intricate silver metalwork. Despite all the beauty and theatrics, the uneasy feeling returned.

“Well,” Ziggy dusted himself off, “That was some freaky shit.”

Tipsy looked at Radan, and motioned towards the tomb. Whatever they had to do, whatever, she would do it, she just wanted out from this. She moved towards the tome, Radan and Ziggy trailing just behind her.

“So, who’s gonna open it?” Beetle asked as he practically skipped towards the tomb.

“Uh,” Tipsy eyed the size of the tome again, “Might be a bit of a group effort there.”

The tome began to float. Tipsy nearly screamed, bumping back into Ziggy as she jolted up, tempted to bolt but reminded that hey, it was just a dream, just a _dream_. It tilted itself towards the group, the spotlight getting more intense.

“I…I guess that’s a good sign. Is that a good sign?” Tipsy asked nervously, trying to smile but unable to. Jay grabbed onto Radan’s belts and grappled up the taller faun, sitting on their shoulders and staring at the tome. “I dunno, Radan, you prolly have the most experience with magic bullshit, what do you think about this?”

Radan didn’t reply. They slowly reached their hand out, going to open the tomb, when-

_**FWOOSH!** _   
  


The book snapped wide open. Another jolt, this time from Ziggy as he hid behind Tipsy’s leg. The pages flipped past, so many pages it caused a strong breeze to wash over her, rustling her hair and blowing dust into her eyes. It looked like it could go on for an eternity, just a never ending flip through of pages, when all of a sudden, it began to slow, and the last page fluttered open.

In dark purple ink, there lay detailed cursive writing. It was a little hard to read with how scrawled and twisty it was, but Tipsy did her best.

_So…_ , the script said, _Y’all got a name or something?_

“What the fuck.”

There was a line underneath, and in super tiny parentheses,

_(Like, a team name or something.)_

“...Anyone got any ideas?” Radan asked.

Beetle raised his hand. “Let’s name ourselves Beetle and his Adoring Fans!”

“No.”

His ear twitched. “Okay, fine, how about Beetle and his Gang of Followers?”

Beetle made a face, and pursed his lips.

“No I cannot be, secret voice inside my head for some weird reason.” He said to absolutely nothing, placing a hand on his hip, tapping his foot expectantly.

“Who are you talking to Beetle?” Tipsy asked, shoulders up.

Beetle simply winked. “No one.”

“Ugh, all of those names suck, Beatlit! If we have to work together, we should be something cool, like...like uh...FieryBalls of Death!” Ziggy glowed with pride, so much so that it almost made Tipsy feel bad to tell him no. Keyword being almost.

“Absolutely not. Is there anyone here with a decent name?” Tipsy pleaded. At this rate they were never going to leave this stupid dream realm, fuck. “Jay, you could mime it.”

Radan scratched the back of their head, shyly kicking a hood around. “Well I personally feel like we should call ourselves something like eh, I dunno, Knights of the Marigold...”

Tipsy clapped her hands together. Mysterious voices not talking to her, fine, fine. “You know what? If that gets us out of here, that works for me, sure.”

Beetle scoffed, flipping invisible bangs out of his eyes. “I’m not a knight.” He said plainly, with clear disdain.

“I don’t want to be stuck here forever because we can’t decide on a damn name that some...someone wants us to put in.” Tipsy shot back.

“Fine then, Team One is my next option.” Radan said, perhaps only half joking if they were joking at all.

“No, no,” Tipsy sighed, thinking deeply, “How about uh, the Protectors? Protectors of the...no that’s stupid...?”

“Uhm, yeah that was very uncomfortable. Did anyone else hear that?”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as they all looked around. The only light came from the spotlight, just like before, page expectantly waiting for someone, anyone to write down a name.

“Hear what?” Tipsy asked.

“Oh, you heard her too?” Beetle asked as well.

“Somebody just like, whispered in my ear.” Radan shuddered, eyes darting around. There was no one in sight….“And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Jay. Was it you, Jay?” He turned his head to face the halfling on his shoulders, but she only shook her head.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ziggy narrowed his eyes, “I swear she can talk and she’s just keeping it a secret from me.”

“Guardians of the Marigold?” Tipsy interrupted, hoping not to delay their escape out of scary weird void hell any longer, “If you want to be less knightly...”

“You want to be guardians of a-a beer place?” Ziggy’s expression soured.

“Of a flower.” Beetle corrected, giving another conspicuous wink to Tipsy. What, did he think he was honestly doing her a favor?

“Okay,” Radan cleared their throat, getting everyone’s attention, “Guardian or Knight? I’m putting it to a vote.”

“Up to you lot.” Tipsy said, trying to sound casual. Sure, very casual in this weird black hole, yup, all chill.

“Why are we guarding a bar?” Ziggy asked, entirely confused.

“Why are we in this strange dark hole?” Radan, clearly exasperated, began fiddling with the belts that looped around them. Weird how they wore so many belts when they didn’t wear any pants…

“We should be Guardians of the Dark Hole then!” Ziggy screeched. He would have said more if a light laugh echoed through everyone’s heads-Tipsy glanced around, but again, dark hole, pedestal, book. No one around but them, least of all any owner of a strange, unnerving voice that have sounded like wind chimes.

No one spoke for a moment.

“Oh,” Tipsy’s throat felt dry, “ **God**.”

“I thought maybe that Elowen the first time around but I’m almost positive it’s not him now.” Radan said quickly, hands curled into fists.

“Uhm-uhm-okay, can we just write something down? Knights or Marigolds?” Tipsy spoke at twice the speed of Radan, tripping over each and every word.

Beetle blinked. “Knights or _Marigold_?”

“You know what I meant!”

Radan thought for a moment. “I like Guardians.”

“How about,” a smirk formed on Ziggy’s face, “The Mari-Guardians?”

_**“NO.”** _

Windchimes, wind, and a burst of sparkles and a large, white plumed quill appeared, simply floating just above the tome, suspended from nothing. It was ungodly fancy, tipped with gold and silver, small blue and purple crystals embedded in it.

“Does somebody have better handwriting than me?” Radan glanced behind, looking slightly embarrased. Jay cracked her knuckles and patted Radan’s head, and grabbed the pen.

In her best handwriting, dwarfed by the rest of the giant page, Jay wrote down _Guardians of the Marigold._

And then, because things were already weird as shit, Jay spoke.

“Thank you.” Jay said, in a very distinctive accent that Tipsy couldn’t quite place. Tipsy chocked on her own spit; Ziggy and Beetle stood there, wide eyed, jaws on the floor (well, not Beetle, he was too good for that), and Radan tensed as they slowly turned their head once more towards Jay, who was completely still and face stuck in an expression of utter and complete shock.

Tipsy forced her voice to work. “Uh-Jay…?”

Jay looked down, looked up, rubbed her throat with her hands, and made a few small melodic sounds, sounds that Tipsy hadn’t heard come out of her once. Not even when fighting a fucking dragon and getting hit with some arcane spell did Jay speak, but right here, right now?

Yeah, this was definitely a dream.

The (former?) mime slowly turned to Beetle.

“I knew it! It was all a lie!” Ziggy jumped from foot to foot.

Beetle narrowed his eyes, not so much in anger, but simple confusion. “I’ve known you for two days longer than everybody else here, and you’re just _now_ pulling this out?”

His voice cracked at the end.

“Blue Beetle the Bard,” Jay started, clearly unused to actually being able to use her face, face stuck in a smile despite the harshness in her words, “My NAME is NOT Jay. My GOD. You ABSOLUTE Muppet.”

Deep breath, pause.

“It’s Jayvyre, by the way, nice to meet you.” Jay leapt off of Radan’s shoulders, did a little twirl as she landed, and bowed.

“H-Hello,” Tipsy bobbed her head back, “Could-could you always talk or is this just another weird magic dream bullshit thing?”

Jay bit her lip. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” she admitted entirely. Well, at least she was honest.

Slowly blinking, then rapidly blinking, Radan looked right at Jay. “So, was it you leaving the message in the book or…?”

Jay furrowed her brow, annoyed. “Yes, it was me, it was me right here, me and my new magic bullshit.”

Tipsy snorted an ungainly laugh. “I like it when you can talk, Jay!” Tipsy said, about two seconds before she realized that was probably a rude thing to say, and about four before she realized that was definitely a terrible thing to say.

In the far horizon, a giant, stained glass door grew from the ground, literally grew like a tree in fast forward. The door, split into two, began to open, and light flooded the room. By the time Tipsy’s eyes recovered for what felt like the seventieth time that...day? Whatever, a dark figure, silhouetted in light, began to move forward.

“H…hello?” Tipsy called out, but the figure didn’t reply.

As light seemed to seep into every nook and cranny of the room, more of the figure became visible. She was very tall, much taller than Tipsy, with a large black hood over their face, and an incredibly long cape that had a sort of stained glass-style style to it, depicting scenes from the previous panes and beyond.

“Are you the one that’s been fucking around with us? Because I’d like to either wake up or go home.” Tipsy said again, more aggression in her tone this time.

The figure slowed their footsteps. They raised a hand, and the tome slammed shut in a loud THUMP!, Jay squealing far louder than she probably meant to as the quill in her hand disappeared in a mini explosion of glitter. The tome slowly floated up, just like before, and the figure held their arm straight up to reveal an inky blackness underneath their cloak. Despite the immense size of the tome, it disappeared into the nothingness of the cloak, and when the figure lowered her arm, it was as if the tome was never there.

“Eh…,” Radan kept a keen eye on the figure, “What’s all this about, then?”

Still not responding, even after all this, the figure pulled down their it. A gaunt young woman stood before them, with purple skin. She wasn’t like a tiefling or aasimir, though, her skin, much like the light, appeared to glow, and small markings appeared to move across like little shooting stars. Her hair was almost as blinding as the light around them, a dazzling white, cut short, large glasses covering

Jay leaned forward. “So,” she said, one eyebrow raised, “Who’s the grape then?”

Beetle started cackling, and even for a brief second, a huge grin formed on Tipsy’s face. And then the grape laughed and ruined the whole mood, though she didn’t sound very angry.

“Okay, so, you can speak,” Tipsy jabbed a finger at the figure, “You mind answering our damn questions?”

The figure stopped laughing, looking utterly confused, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, sorry, what were they? Hi, by the way.”

She asked so casually and so nonchalantly that Tipsy’s brain needed time to buffer.

“Who, what, where, when, and why I think covers most of them.” Tipsy managed to say, still gaping. A very strange feeling bloomed inside her; this figure...this person was not normal. Something was very wrong.

“Oh! First of all,” the woman said with complete sincerity, “You’re on the astral plane right now.”

Tipsy nodded.

Hold it.

“Is this gonna go away when-” Jay started, pointing at her throat, interrupted by a loud clap that sounded like church bells ringing.

“Welcome! This is my realm!” Gods, this woman was fucking chipper. “I’m Samaaris, by the way, Goddess of Lore, it’s very nice too meet all of you. It’s just for record keeping purposes that I need like, a group name, and also this will help you out later. Like, you know, you know?”

“Uh-”

“Okay well-”

“Wait-”

Jay managed to get to the fro first.

“Is this gonna keep happening?,” she asked again, pointing with a little more vigor at her throat, “Is this a permanent thing?”

“Oof, I’m sorry,” Samaaris gave a little cringe, “I don’t have that many chapters written about you guys right now but like, this will help very much, I don’t wanna have to keep calling you the ‘lot’ or ‘party’ or ‘group’ or whatever but anyways, thank you very much, that is all I needed from you, and uh, bye!”

“Wait a minute,” Radan stepped forward, “Hold on!”

“Hold it, wait!,” Ziggy hollered, “Are you sure you didn’t come here to bestow me with awesome power? Because clearly that’s what’s happening, right?”

“First of all,” Radan didn’t wait for Ziggy to spew more bullshit, “We never established that we were going to be a group forever. I said I was only doin’ a couple of things with these people and that was gonna be it.”

“Same, I hate them.” Ziggy added.

“Second of all, if you’re trying to group us into some sort of adventure party, I think you’re missing someone!” Radan motioned to the emptiness next to them, which was exactly the point.

Tipsy took a step forward as well, half expecting to be incinerated. Hey, not the worst way to go. “Yeah, you’re missing the one person who’s actually a good person! I mean, no offense, guys, but y’know.”

“Well fuck you to.” Jay flipped her off. Okay, some offense was apparently taken, oops.

Samaaris gave a little giggle, like this was all some game. If she was a god, was this just a game to her? “Yes it’s very interesting, isn’t it? You guys should figure that out yourselves.”

The wind picked up, Tipsy’s hair whipping round and around, and Samaaris waved.

“I wish you all the best of luck on your adventure! Take care! Toodaloo! See you soon!”

“Wh-”

It went black.

Her eyes hurt.

“Hello, heroes?” Clover’s jovial voice rang through the room, muffled by the door that she was knocking on.

Tipsy awoke with a jolt, feeling gross. But she always felt gross, so it wasn’t like this time was special. She smacked her face and shook her head, forcing herself up. Certain she looked like living hell, Tipsy stared at Ziggy, gurgling water as he jumped up.

“I had the weirdest dream about you shitballs last night,” Ziggy waved his arms around, getting water everywhere, “But I know it was a dream because the mime was speaking, and that can’t be real. Ope, where are my pants...”

“Um-”

Tipsy took a deep breath.

“One problem Ziggy. I also had a weird dream last night, and it also involved the mime speaking.” Tipsy cleared her throat, and hoping Clover could hear her, yelled out, “One moment!”

She stumbled out of bed, the world a blur of colors and vague shapes. Ziggy apparently got pants on...some time in between Tipsy seeing a blob of too much red and whipping her head to the side. Stumbling, probably sounding like a goddamn bull in a shop made of glass. Preferably not stained glass, too many awful memories of the dream-dream?-from last night. With a bit of a heavy head, Tipsy opened the door.

“H-Hello?” She stared down, “Oh, hi Clover.”

“Haha, you slept well!” Clover laughed. “Impressive bedhead!”

Tipsy glanced at the mirror. Sure enough, what little hair she had was splayed in about a million different directions. Ugh, that was gonna be a bitch to comb down, and she had pawned the comb off for a beer, dammit.

“Thanks.” She folded her arms. “Uh...hey, you wouldn’t have happened to have any strange dreams last night, would you?”

“Me? Oh, no, slept like a baby. But I did get up early to make,” Clover shoved a small basket in Tipsy’s face, half filled with pastries, “These!”

“Ooo, gimme!” Ziggy leapt towards the pastries. Tipsy, long used to Ziggy’s ways, blocked his attempt to snatch the pastries and as delicately as she could, grabbed two of the pastries, handing them both to Ziggy. That dream didn’t leave much in the way for appetite, though as Ziggy all but inhaled the pastries, Tipsy began to think he was a lot less bothered by it than her. “Yeah, uh, thanks...we’ll be down in uh-I guess we’ll go-I mean we don’t have-uh-”

“THE EGGS!” Clover bellowed, completely forgetting about her pastry mission and running off down the stairs. Tipsy blinked, shrugged, and shut the door.

Tipsy looked at Ziggy.

Ziggy looked at Tipsy.

Tipsy coughed.

Ziggy licked his eyeball.

“When you dreamed last night,” Tipsy started with because what else was there to talk about, “Do you remember the stained glass?”

Ziggy thought for a moment, and shrugged. “I think so, if that’s what you call it. Can’t say I’ve ever seen something like that before.”

“Yeah, I...Guardians of the Marigold, huh.” Tipsy tapped her chin, then mimicked Ziggy’s shrug with one of her own. “Well, fuck it, this is a problem only booze can solve.”

“You remember that name too!?” Ziggy gaped, then crossed his arms, “Stupid name! Stupid, stupid name!”

“Well not everyone wanted to be the Mari-guardians, Ziggy!”

“Come on! It was way more clever! You’re always doubting me but I...”

She tuned him out. It didn’t take long to get ready-tame down the bedhead, do her best to wipe the grime off her face, attempt to freshen up (but it wasn’t like she had any clean clothes to change into) and overall fail at it. She didn’t look terrible, she supposed, but just...plain. Acceptable, if nothing else, though she definitely needed to bathe at some point before they left, if Ziggy would stop hoarding all the water.

“Haha! I am ready, chopchop travel slave!” Ziggy finished tying his cape around his neck and struck a pose. Tipsy sighed, allowing the grung to hop onto her shoulders as she slowly made her way down.

Most of the party sat around a front table by the stairs, most of which poking and prodding at mostly-burnt eggs. Clover looked surprisingly proud of the dish.

She eyed Beetle, chugging a large glass of milk.

“...I thought tabaxis couldn’t have milk?” Tipsy asked.

His only response was to chug harder.

As Tipsy sat down, soft, barely audible footsteps let her know Jay was coming down. She eyed Jay, a little nervously, unsure whether the whole magic speaking thing was permanent or what.

“So…,” Tipsy coughed, “Jayvyre, right?”

Jay took a very deep breath, and ran a hand through her hair.

“Can uh...you still...” Tipsy motioned to her throat. Jay gave a grin, but it was not a nice one, and Tipsy supposed she deserved since all evidence suggested Jay couldn’t talk. What a cruel trick to play on her, but gods were never known for their kindness.

No one really spoke after that. Jay took a seat between Beetle and Elowen, the later with his shoulders hunched over and looking like he wanted to seem much smaller than he actually was. Radan and Jay both acted like they had the weirdest dream in their lives, or one of the weirdest anyways. Ziggy was too busy inhaling the eggs; Beetle acted entirely unaffected, but with the way his eyes darted around the table, Tipsy knew he must of remembered something. Maybe.

“Did you all get a good sleep?” Clover asked while refilling Beetle’s glass for the third time, “Sounded like you all went to bed pretty quickly.”

“Yeah...” Radan trailed off, looking away.

Beetle smiled. “Something like that.”

Elowen surveyed the room, clearly confused. “What happened?” His question held such a tone of confusion that Tipsy, while initially convinced the….the god...S...Sam? No, Samaaris must of visited him alone, began to think maybe Elowen really did just get some rest.

Radan eyed Beetle. The lazy bastard was still in a fancy looking nightgown and a stupid little nightcap, just like in the dream. Was it even fair to call it a dream, if it really did happen?

Beetle looked back at Radan, down to his nightgown, and right back to Radan. “Do you want me to get you one? I have extras,” Beetle gave a slight gasp of delight, “Oh my goodness, we could all match, since we’re a team now!”

“We are not a team.” Tipsy said sharply.

Sighing, Elowen leaned back in his seat. “It seems that I have been...left out of this.”

“Yeah, you should be grateful for that.” Tipsy huffed.

“Where were you?” Radan stared at Elowen, eyes (presumably, anyways, under all that fluff) narrowed. “Why weren’t you there?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what’s happened!” Elowen held his hands up, curled into himself. It was weird seeing a man dressed in full armor acting so sheepish, especially as he only seemed to shrink in further as Beetle leaned forward.

“Long story short, we all entered a dream realm together.” Beetle explained most helpfully. Did he think this was a joke?

“That…,” Elowen sounded concerned and confused, a hint of apprehensiveness to his voice, “Sounds interesting.”

Radan folded their hands together, hooves lightly scraping against the charred wooden floors. “Elowen, have you ever heard of a god called Samaaris?”

The paladin’s breath hitched. “I have.”

Tipsy and Radan exchanged looks. “What do you know about her?”

Elowen looked away. “We’ve only met once.”

“But you have met her before?” Tipsy crossed her arms. Of course he would have met her before, he was a paladin.

“I have.”

Ziggy gaped. “You-you met a fuckin’ goddess!?” He cried, sounding more jealous than anything else. Too focused to even snap at Ziggy, Tipsy instead waved a hand in his general direction for a few seconds, hoping she smacked him at some point.

She tried to stay on task, even with Ziggy’s grumbling. “When did you meet her?”

“...It’s not something that I want to discuss.”

“Okay, well,” Radan sounded very bitter and very angry, “I need you to know that Samaaris has decided that we are a team now, whether we like it or not! And our fates are intertwined, and we are destined to travel together.”

Incredibly tense, Elowen didn’t speak for a moment. Finally, he managed to sputter out, “Well, it doesn’t seem like I was very involved in this decision.”

“But you were!” Radan threw their hands up.

“You kinda had like,” Beetle batted at his tail, fluttering his lashes, “Your own stained glass window pane thingy? It was-”

“My what?” Elowen’s voice rose.

“Beetle! Beetle, look,” Tipsy turned back to Elowen, “It doesn’t matter, it was just...not a dream I think any of us want to repeat again, I suppose. It’s just, we’re traveling together, whatever.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Beetle shrugged, “I thought it was pretty fun.”

“It was not fun, Beetle, it was the opposite of fuckin’ fun. I got blinded like five times.” Tipsy felt her eye twitch, a familiar flash of red blinding her vision before she took a deep breath, though for a moment, and relaxed back in the chair. No use getting angry over something so petty, anyways.

A chair squeaked. Elowen had scooted himself back, away from the edge of the table, still hunched over. Ziggy stared at Elowen, then at Tipsy, slowly looking around and muttering to himself.

“Wait a sec...the stained glass windows represented us?” Ziggy asked, slowly and carefully.

Everyone stared.

“What!? There was a lot happening!”

“You were in a _church_? With _Samaaris_?” Elowen sounded incredibly on edge, clawed gauntlets digging into the arms of the chair. “No, no, I can’t do this again, not again-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tipsy took a sip of water, but it didn’t seem to ease her throat or her fears. “It’s not like it’s anything-”

“HEY WAIT A MINUTE!” Ziggy roared. He leapt up onto the table, “Tipsy! You did my stained glass window! How COULD YOU!?!?”

There was red, blue, a thump. Tipsy didn’t even realize she was the cause until a scorching pain shot through her body, her fingers curled tight around as her fist lay on the table, the table still shaking from the impact. Elowen jumped, armor clanking around as he nearly leapt out of the chair entirely; Jay, who had been dully staring into nothing with a piece of bread in her mouth, didn’t even flinch as her head bobbed up and down, slamming back into the table. Tipsy forced her breath to steady, biting her tongue-good, let it hurt, she hoped she bit a hole right through-and trying to lower her voice from the near-scream it was so close to being.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about, Von Iris,” Tipsy said, uncertain of her own words, “Just-just-just relax!”

“Uhm,” Beetle raised a hand, “I think it’s something we should probably worry about.”

“What are we worrying about?!,” Elowen looked around, desperate for answers, and Tipsy didn’t know if they could give him any, “What is going on?”

“Just, you know,” Beetle didn’t have a care in the world, “The stained glass-”

_The desert._

_The figures._

_The fight._

“I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT!” Tipsy yelled. With a final crack in her voice that she hoped Beetle didn’t notice, “ _Please_.”

Radan held up their hand, and the rest of the table fell silent, even if Beetle didn’t appear too interested.

“Look, all that really matters at this point, and all that you need to know, is that we met Samaaris last night, and there was indication that all of us are involved in some sort of fate story.” Radan said calmly. Some sense of relaxed tiredness swept through the table, and Elowen loosened his grip on the chair, if only by a little. Radan looked like they wanted to say more before Ziggy piped up.

“Also,” Ziggy said in a nasally voice, “The mime definitely has the capability to talk.”

He toddled on over to Jay, and grabbed her face in his hands. With overeager movement, he forced her mouth open and close like a marionette, trying to will the mime into speaking.

“See, look!,” Ziggy grinned as nary a thing came out of Jay’s mouth, “Do it again!”

“You-stop that! Ziggy!” Elowen cried, swatting a hand towards the grung, torn between grabbing Ziggy and, presumably, flinging him into the sky or bolting out of the Marigold entirely, perhaps to never return. Ziggy, smartly, leapt back, leaving Jay to slam her face back down on the table. Her eyes...they looked entirely dead; whatever trick Samaaris had done to give Jay her voice back in the ‘astral plane’ definitely hadn’t lasted.

Radan scoffed, still tense and eying the situation. “What sort of business do you have with Samaaris that you’re so afraid of her?”

The paladin didn’t answer for what felt like hours but must have been a minute at most.

“It’s nothing,” he said after a while, voice so low Tipsy could barely hear him, “I just, I don’t have time for some fated quest-” He spat those words out with venom- “That she’s written out for me. I know what she has in store for me and I need to go face it.”

“Well she seems to think you’re not facin’ it alone.”

“I have to,” Elowen sounded desperate, “I have to.”

Jay stood up.

She walked over to Elowen, completely uncaring of the tension in the room. Without a second thought, she hopped onto Elowen’s lap, staring directly into his eyes.

Under his breath, Beetle muttered, “Ohmygodisshegonnnatalkagain?”

“Von Iris,” Tipsy tried again, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but like I said before, I-I’m here to help, and uh, I guess some god,” she chuckled nervously, “Took the offer a bit too seriously? She said-she said-eh, we might have given her a name, accidentally? It was kind of the only way out...”

Elowen paused again. “A name?”

Oof, he did not sound happy.

“Yeah, she said she wanted a ‘group name’ or something.” Tipsy scratched the back of her neck. “We sorta come up with uh...um...”

“Kinda embarrassin’ now that we have to say it out loud.” Radan shared the awkwardness.

“It’s very embarrassing,” Beetle looked over his nails, eyes half lidded, “I thought I should’ve been the star of this show, but everyone said no.”

“Why are we suddenly a team now?” Elowen swiveled his head from Jay to Beetle, who only shrugged innocently.

“Samaaris said so.” Radan replied sharply, “Feels like out of any of us, you should know that Samaaris is very unpredictable, and when she decides that something is going to happen to you, you don’t have much of a choice.”

“The last time we spoke, nothing like this came up,” Elowen was starting to sound a bit sharper as well, bitter, even.

Jay sighed, and wrote something out in her notebook, flashing it to Elowen with an expectant look. He glanced at the pages, grip still tight around the arm rests, but after a bit, he settled back down, shoulders slowly lowering and a deep exhale escaping his lips. Gods did he sound tired, and who could blame him?

“She didn’t tell me about this.” Elowen muttered.

“Would she have told you about this?,” Tipsy asked, “Is she-I mean, you know-your uh-your fancy paladin stuff with the-the gods and stuff-”

After a few useless seconds of strange hand motions, Elowen seemed to finally grasp the point Tipsy wanted to make. “She is not my goddess, but we have met before. I didn’t think she had any sort of jurisdiction over me, but it seems that...isn’t the case.”

“Well, uh, is there anything we can do to stop her?” The idea of a goddess constantly tracking her everyone felt a bit...much for Tipsy’s taste.

“I don’t think her intentions are poor but I-I thought there was something that I had to do and then everything would be over and it would be done. I just don’t understand why this would suddenly happen, there’s too much at stake for me to prance around on some...augh!” Elowen pulled at the pink feathers on his helmet, “If I could juAH!”

Everyone jumped as Clover cleared her throat.

She blinked exactly twice. “...Anyway,” Clover said, Tipsy unsure whether she had heard that entire thing go down or not, “The celebratory feast is happening this afternoon, in just a couple hours, so if there’s anything you guys want to do before that-I know um, Bran is waiting for you over in the law master’s office with your payment, so you can make your way over there.”

Radan stood up, shoulders sagging, tail flicking back and forth, pushing their chair back into the table. “I’m goin’ to Merrick’s.”

“What do you plan on doing there?” Elowen’s voice was strangely icy.

“You know what we’re doin’.” Radan said, as Beetle stood up and leaned against the wall near them.

“Didn’t we cover this on the way back?” Beetle asked playfully.

Elowen did not calm down, nor did his demeanor become any friendlier. “I just...want you to think about what you’re going to do there, and who will be watching.”

“No one’s gonna be watching, it’s an empty store.” Tipsy said, perhaps a little too indignantly.

“It was the town’s source of medicine.”

It took a lot of effort to resist rolling her eyes, even with her newfound respect for the paladin and oath to help him. “We’re not gonna be taking everything from the store, gods. Besides, he was an asshole, who cares?”

The answer was quick and cut through Tipsy’s heart like a sword. “I do! And it’s not about whether or not I care about Merrick, I care about these people. If they see you ransacking their source of medicine, and stealing blatantly in the daylight, and wantonly destroying the place-what do you think they’ll say of their town heroes?”

“No one said we were going to destroy it!” Tipsy looked around between Radan and Jay for some support and backup on this, though she was starting to feel a little chillier towards the idea herself.

“All I wanna do is head in and grab a few potions, that’s it.” Radan said, tenser than before.

Elowen glanced around wearily. “Is that what the rest of you wish to do?”

“Yes.” Tipsy said, maybe too quickly.

“I just wanna gander a bit, you know?” Beetle chimed in, flicking a fork between his fingers, “You know, see what dark secrets he was hiding in there. But I mean, if we did destroy it, it’s not like Merrick’s gonna be there to yell at us.”

Grasping the pitcher with a tight hand, Clover looked at Toast, who looked at Clover, who then decided to not look at the completely vacant looking kobold and turn to the group. “So you are going to investigate Merrick’s?”

“Investigate, yeah, that’s a good word.” Tipsy bobbed her head absentmindedly.

Elowen didn’t beat around the bush. “They’re going to destroy it.”

“We’re not going to _destroy_ it.” Radan hissed back.

“Oh thank god,” Clover let out a sigh of relief, “We’ve already had enough destruction here in Belimar. I would like to know what happened, he was already strange that Merrick...he’s been here a couple months-no, no, sorry, _years_ , he was just around so little it felt like months.”

“That sounds suspicious to me,” Beetle’s eyes lit up, “I say we go ransack the whole joint and see what he was hiding.”

“The polite way to phrase it, Beetle, is investigate.” Tipsy echoed, lightly-lightly, she swore!-nudging the bard.

“Eh, that’s not as fun.” Beetle purred.

Ziggy held up his hand. “I can burn it when we’re done-”

“No,” Tipsy made sure to put emphasis in her voice, “NO.”

Elowen’s claws dug deeper into the arm rests, so deep he began to splinter the chair. Rescue came in the form of Toast, of all people, who trotted over and, noticing the paladin’s behavior, immediately began to mimic it, scratching and biting at the weak wood. It, it was funny, the claws almost seemed to-

“I don’t want you all to go parading around and causing these people anymore grief.” He said softly.

Beetle scoffed. “Everywhere I go it’s a scene-”

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING THIS, _**BEETLE**_!”

His voice seemed to reverberate through the whole room in an entirely unnatural way, too low and too loud and too powerful for anyone to have. Toast stumbled back, and Jay flinched.

“Alright, alright, Jeezuss, we-we won’t-just-okay!” Tipsy stuttered, inwardly cursing her own inability to speak.

“Just...just promise me that whatever healing supplies you find, you’ll give them back to the people. You could,” he chuckled, a bit of lightness returning to his voice, “Even make little bundles, and hand them out to the townspeople, you...you’re all in the public eye now, and I know some of you aren’t used to that.”

Tipsy had to laugh at that. “I don’t think I’ll be in the public eye for very long.”

“You have to understand that you are a hero right now-”

Her smile faded. “I am not a hero.”

“-And being a hero comes with responsibilities that you’re probably not used to, and if they see you stealing and destroying their buildings they are going to be upset.” He continued on, though Tipsy felt the briefest of glances spared her way. She probably didn’t even deserve that much. His little speech over, Elowen leaned back, exhausted, Jay putting a single reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Clover coughed. “Ehm, Beetle, why don’t you change out of that…?”

Beetle looked down at his nightgown and up at his cap. “Oh, well, I suppose I should look my best for the feast...”

He dashed upstairs and left everyone else in relative silence. Tipsy fidgeted; she was tempted to head up and get the prince, but the image of that priss complaining about how peasenty the mattress was while he got Rowan to...oh, who knew, massage his feet or whatever princes asked their royal guards to do, she didn’t know, she just didn’t want to see it. She knew it must be significant that the prince was exhibiting magic, but it wasn’t like anyone had tattled on Ziggy for sending about a million fireballs out when the town was in danger; maybe they just wouldn’t care? Not like the king could be that important, probably the queen, if anyone, who made the decisions. Or however monarchies worked.

She bit her lip. Was she being selfish, to want to take from Merrick’s? No one would be watching, they had about a million thieves in this, this forced group of vagabonds, and Merrick was the big bad! He kidnapped and experimented on innocent people! She never felt comfortable taking from those who didn’t deserve it, not anymore, but Merrick was dead and a vile, vile memory of a person. They obviously weren’t going to take everything, and even if they did, they won it fair and square-

Well, the others deserved it. Tipsy knew in her mind she didn’t do enough to earn a damn thing.

“Tada!” Beetle pranced down the stairs. His clothes looked exactly the same as before, just different colors-deep blues and reds instead of magentas and purples.

Wordlessly, they stood and left the inn, Beetle taking a moment to glance at his reflection, then catch up with the others. Toast stayed behind, though seemed a little startled by Clover’s semi-playful glare, becoming significantly less playful when she saw the damage to the chair.

Villagers walked on by, many carrying chairs and lifting tables into place. They didn’t seem to notice the group they were preparing the tables for, but for their purposes that worked just fine. Didn’t want to attract attention, though with the way Beetle’s hip swayed as he walked, at least one of them didn’t care about Elowen’s warnings. With a few twists and turns, and some vague whispers amongst themselves and only themselves, they arrived at the potions shop.

The shop...looked about the same as ever.

Radan made the first move, approaching the door. A quick jiggle of the doorknob revealed that it was locked, no surprise there. They turned their head to Elowen wearily.

“Is it too much for us to lockpick the door, or…?”

“It’s fine.” Elowen croaked, voice so quiet Tipsy could barely hear him. He seemed a bit lost in thought, taking a seat next to the stoop of the store, knees up.

With a quick sleight of hand, Radan managed to get the lock to budge. They peered in; Tipsy, still standing a few feet away, could only see a strange, hazy smog. Was that covering the entire shop? Damn, that was going to be a real bitch to “Ooo, scary!”

Tipsy whipped their head around. A metallic scrape rang out as Elowen jumped, grabbing his sword, head swiveling around wildly. She didn’t know how she didn’t notice before, but Fallon, hood pulled up and a chipper little smile on his face, stood just behind Radan. The prince seemed pretty happy at first, until he noticed Elowen’s stone cold grip on the sword, and he jumped back.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s just me, it’s just me!” Fallon tried to keep his voice down, but failed miserably. Without missing a beat, Beetle linked his arm through Fallon’s, grinning.

“I’m so glad you’re here!,” he purured, “We are gonna have so much fun together. Now let’s go inside and ransack this joint.”

“Ehehe, well, I really just want to return these supplies back to the people of Belimer,” that definitely wasn’t what Fallon said yesterday, but whatever, “Get all those potions out and hand them out, maybe at the feast.”

“Wow, that’s…,” Tipsy held back her own surprise, “Actually very noble of you.”

Fallon beamed. “Thank you!”

“We can do that, but first,” Beetle leaned in real close, too close for comfort, “We ransack.”

“I will not allow you to cause anymore destruction!” Elowen barked back. For a split second, Tipsy wondered if he was actually about to attack-his hold on the sword was not in a friendly manner, to say the least.

Fallon chuckled nervously. “I would rather we not, ehehe...”

“Can we please find out if there’s anything actually in here first?” Radan said behind them, very obviously annoyed. Jay had already wriggled her way past Radan and into the dense fog. Radan watched her go in, made a face, and turned around. “Everyone’s gonna have to watch their step comin’ in here.”

Ziggy puffed up his chest. “Pff, I don’t need to watch where I’m going, any-”

“Actually, Ziggy,” Tipsy slid in front of him, “I have a really important job for you. You’re just, so powerful, and so important, would you mind, maybe, staying out here, with Von Iris, and keeping guard? You know, because you’re so powerful that if any enemy came here I’m sure you would be able to scare them off. So just stay out here and I’ll bring you back the loot?”

After a brief game called ‘What silly expressions Ziggy can make in deep contemplation’, he finally shrugged. “Sounds awfully boring but if I must...”

“You’re so powerful Ziggy, I really think you should stand guard.” Tipsy nodded eagerly. Fallon made brief eye contact.

“...You aren’t wrong.” Ziggy crossed his arms shyly.

“Oh, yes,” the lantern in Fallon’s brain lit up, “You’re amazing, dear.”

If Ziggy wasn’t already bright red, Tipsy swore he would be blushing. “Gosh, well-”

“See, even the prince thinks you’re awesome! So why don’t you stay guard and stay next to Von Iris and not move? Okay well, be right back!” And with that hurried goodbye, pausing only long enough to see Ziggy flop next to a still Elowen, Tipsy followed Fallon into the shop.

“Wow,” the prince marveled, “I can’t see a thing!”

Yeah, the store was pretty much a haze of nothingness. The second Tipsy stumbled in she already lost track of Fallon, wood creaking beneath her boots. She gingerly held her hands out for some sense of safety, though it felt more like she was about to stumble into a trap at any moment. Did Merrick boobytrap this place? It was already hard enough to steal when it was covered in such a fog…

“Keep talkin’ everyone,” Radan said after a few squeaks of surprise from both Jay and Fallon, presumably bumping into each other, “So we don’t lose anyone in this.”

“Should we make a line or something? Hold hands?” Fallon asked, and quickly added, “I’m scared.”

Holding hands didn’t sound like a great plan to Tipsy, even if it was probably safe advice. Besides, she had already lost the group in the mist. “Why are you scared?” She asked, rolling her eyes.

There was no response, just vague yelps of pain and Radan quickly whispering something to their presumed victim.

“I guess we should just start shoving potions in our bags and see what we get when we get outside?” Tipsy tried to focus through the fog, but couldn’t see a damn thing.

“Well, the counter was that way,” Radan’s voice echoed a bit, “Whichever way that is...that’s a little ominous, init?”

“What is?” Fallon asked innocently. A chill in the air that wasn’t there before made Tipsy pause, but she couldn’t see anything so she really didn’t have context for what was going on. Something to do with the whole ice magic bullshit, maybe?

She shuffled one step at a time, hesitantly. She had planned on just taking as much as she could fit in her bag, but Elowen’s words echoed back to her; maybe...maybe it would be better to just wait, try to figure out how to get this damn fog to go away before she did anything. Tipsy waved her hands around in the air, mist swirling around, and just before she was about to take another step, she paused.

There was something etched into the ground. A strange circle of glyphs, about a food in diameter, just...there. On the floor.

Something felt very off, and Tipsy got the feeling she probably shouldn’t step in the circle.

“Huh. Hey, guys, does anyone know what these weird ground symbols mean?” Tipsy asked behind her, hoping her voice carried through.

“What do they look like, Tipsy?” Radan replied from...somewhere. Sounded like they were miles away at this point.

“Uhm…,” Tipsy narrowed her eyes, swatting the fog around to try and get a clearer look, “Squiggly, arranged in a circle about my arm’s length wide, carved into the wood. Was about to step on it before I stopped myself, gettin’ the feeling I should probably not.”

“Probably _oh shit_.”

A faint green glow emerged from the midsts. There was a brief scream and some shuffling, and a lot of bumping around. What the hell…?

“You good over there?” Beetle called out, sounding less concerned than his words implied.

Nothing but a cacophony of curses and pounding feet against the floor.

“Hey Tipsy,” Radan piped up after the noise finally subsided, “I’m gonna need you to NOT step in that glyph no matter what you do.”

“Sounds like you all are having a lot of fun up there.” Beetle said cattily, voice just louder than Fallon’s repeated strings of _dangitdangitdangit_. “Maybe I shoooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh, eugh-” He coughed and gagged, and it sounded like something-a hairball? Did tabaxis get those?-popped out of his mouth, and it thumped onto the floor. Not even seconds later, there was the distinct sound of sizzling. “...That’s actually kinda neat.”

“Are you okay Beetle?” Fallon’s voice was up by about fifty octaves, “B-Beetle? Beetle?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” Of course he was, “Just drank a little too much milk this morning. Oh, uh, before I forget, watch out for this green fog stuff, you will vaporize.”

“Even from the grave Merrick’s kind of a bastard.” Fallon said, perhaps as a joke but his voice was so strung with anxiety that it was hard to tell.

Tipsy waved her hands in front of her, eyes trained to the floor, but she quickly found a flaw in that plan when her head bumped against the shelves. “Shit-we’re not gonna be able to take anything if we all get killed by these fuckin circles.”

Jay sounded like she was humming, and there was light metallic clinking. Tipsy spied a small ballbearing rolling around-Jay must of...OH.

_Fwoosh! Fwip! Shwoo!_ And a million more of these sounds as the ballbearings triggered the traps. Tipsy saw glow after glow, horrible fate after horrible fate, but thankfully none got near her, nor did any manage to trip her up and send her careening into one of the circles. Though it was still very hard to see, most of these circles seemed to be positioned on the side.

At least no one else would get hurt, Tipsy shrugged as she balanced herself against the shelves.

“OW!”  
  


She knew that voice.

“Ziggy!?” Tipsy called. Ziggy screamed and yelped as something sounded like it was hitting him, tiny pellets of something, she couldn’t tell what.

Did she risk running into a circle to try and save him, or did she stay put and hope for the best? She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, she wasn’t about to be useless again. She took a small step forward, but seeing her foot almost come in contact with another rune, she froze-No, no maybe it was better to stay still and hope for the best, but that...oh.

The fog vanished in an instant, sucked up between the cracks in the floor boards. Tipsy had gotten so used to the hazy darkness it took many blinks to adjust to actually being able to see. Jay sat with her hand flat on the desk, a line of paint missing from her forehead. The aforementioned paint was smeared against the side of the desk, which Fallon and Radan leaned against. Beetle looked fine, but poor Ziggy had about a thousand welts on his upper arm and face, tiny little bruises caused by strangely sharp bird seeds on the ground.

Jay laid back first onto the counter and let out a strangled sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank the gods, can we finally get what we need from here so we can get out as quickly as possible?” Tipsy scrunched her eyes up, still not used to the newfound light.

“I guess I’ll go see if there’s anymore healing potions, or at least some ingredients for some.” Fallon said, and quickly shuffled behind the desk and began to poke around. Radan went up the small register, all wrought iron and rusted bits, and began to prod at it; she didn’t doubt the rogue’s skill in being able to open it.

Beetle, meanwhile, had a bright blue cactus stuck to his paw, a brilliant white flower on the top.

Heh.

“Uh….anyone know what this fancy looking thing is?” Beetle asked, lifting his paw up slightly. The cactus stayed in place, even as Beetle began to lightly, and then not so lightly, shake his paw around. As Ziggy waddled over to Tipsy, he eyed Beetle’s cactus.

“Mighty fine cacti you got there, Butthole.”

“Thanks, it’s stuck to me.”

Tipsy raised an eyebrow as she watched Beetle attempt to pull the cactus off, to no avail. “D-Do you want...help? Maybe you want Elowen to go deal with that?”

“Nono, leave it on, that’s hilarious!” Ziggy cried with delight as he pointed at Beetle.

“It’s fine, I got this.” Beetle said without missing a beat, casting a glare at Ziggy. He didn’t have it, though, instead switching to his other hand to began to fish around for stuff to steal. Apparently he didn’t learn his lesson the first time around about blindly shoving his paws into things.

With a slight smug grin, Ziggy walked next to Tipsy, for once not climbing onto her back to see higher, simply staring up at the various herbs in baskets and jars. Five nearly glowing fuchsia poppies, a tiny vial of black dotted seeds next to said poppies, a few ghastly white roots tangled amidst themselves, a bottle filled with dull brown mushrooms, and flat, dark green leaves placed in a neat little bundle tied with twine.

“Any of these interest you?” She asked the wide eyed druid.

“Magnificent...so fascinating….just brilliant…,” Ziggy mumbled, before shaking his head, “Ah, yes! Fetch me the seeds and the poppies.”

It was easy enough to reach up and grab them, no more traps sending any kind of horrifying cloud of acid at her for that. She handed the two jars to Ziggy, who took them with greedy, eager hands. He tucked the seeds into his pouch, and looked over the flower heads with narrowed eyes, clearly trying to recall whatever knowledge he had on them from...whatever kind of weird training he did, Tipsy wasn’t sure.

“By the way,” Ziggy said as an afterthought, “I stood watch, did an excellent job, secured the perimeter, told everyone to stay away, but then I heard screaming and clearly, my help was needed here more. You’re welcome.”

Tipsy thought back to Ziggy screaming as he was pelted by a thousand birdseeds.

“You were a great help.” She responded.

“No need to thank me,” Ziggy turned the jar around, inspecting it carefully.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and in a mere moment, his eyes lit up in recognition.

“These are kaiser poppies,” Ziggy said, grin getting ever wider as he plucked a flowerhead out, “And I have a feeling these could be useful. Now, I’m gonna have to use a _little_ fire, I hope you don’t mind-”

“Absolutely not-”

“Nonono, trust me, this is gonna be good-”

“Ziggy no-”

“Here watch-”

“Ziggy wait-”

There was a flash of flames. Tipsy leapt back, half expecting Merrick’s shop to explode. Instead, Ziggy simply whipped out his ‘druid focus’-whatever that meant, it was an old and half rotting deer antler bone-and whooshed it around.

“Now here’s the fun part, I can cast Faerie Fire!”

One by one, every object in the room began to glow. It was very weird, a blood red outline that didn’t quite light up in a way that normal objects in this plane of existence would, and yet, extremely cool at the same time. It turned the dim shop into a place shinier than the heavens, and Tipsy had a much better time seeing with the extra light. Jay, who apparently had been looking through a small side closet close to the back of the store, gave a started jump, but then flashed a thumbs up. Fallon looked up from under the table, eyes wide in awe.

“Please don’t encourage him.” Tipsy begged as she watched the last of the flames vanish from Ziggy’s palms.

“It’s beautiful, I know. Again, no need to thank me-but you can, I’ll take it!” Ziggy beamed with pride.

There was a cough.

Tipsy looked over, to see Jay, holding an old, weathered broom, with ink black bristles and a stick made of grimy, pale white wood. As surprised as Tipsy was, Jay poked the broom. It let out another cough, and shook just a teensy bit. She began to pet it, in the same way one would bet a dog, and the broom sighed, actually sighed, and coughed again.

Very slowly, Jay wrapped her arms around the broom protectively. _Well_ , Tipsy thought, _Guess that broom is Jay’s now._

“Find anything good?” Fallon asked, now by the front door with a large basket of supplies.

“Uhhh...well, I think we found what we’re gonna find, sooo how about we go?” Tipsy asked-slash-demanded, ignoring Ziggy’s chants for more faerie fire.

Beetle waved his hand around. “I got a plant.”

“...Yeah how about we go to the lawmaster’s now? Go get the gold and all that?” Tipsy looked around for some modicum of support.

Fallon nodded. “Oh, right! Well, I’m gonna go finish up grabbing some supplies for my care packages.”

Tipsy cringed. “Can you really be left alone, after everything that happened?”

“Oh pish posh, no one knows who I am here!” Fallon giggled.

Radan looked as equally unamused as Tipsy did. “No offense but you’ve already been abducted once, what makes you think you won’t get abducted again?”

“I mean, everything’s fine now, isn’t it?”

“That’s a bit of optimistism right there...you know what? Whatever, you do you, if we run into Rowan we’ll tell him you’re all by your lonesome and if not, don’t blame us if you’re kidnapped again.” Tipsy began to walk to the door, already sick of the musty and overpowering scent of about a million weird plants.

“It’ll only take me a few more minutes, just-oh, yes, here we go! Oh, hey,” Fallon briefly knelt before popping back up with five small vials in his hands, “I found some healing potions! Do you want them?”

Tipsy nodded almost immediately. “Yes-”

“Give them back to the townspeople.” Radan shook their head.

“-Wait...yeah, no,” Tipsy felt herself immediately flush, and she hoped her face wasn’t too red, “Should probably give them out, they need them more than us.”

“Alright, well, I think I have everything I needed so I’m gonna go ahead and go now. How about I see you guys later? I’m gonna go back to the Old Marigold. Toodles!” With a little wave, Fallon dramatically slid his hood over his head and walked out the Marigold. Tipsy, Radan, and Ziggy all leaned out to watch the prince skip out and down the cobblestones, turning the corner into the noon sun.

If he got kidnapped again, it wouldn’t be her problem anyways.

Shoulders sagging, Tipsy glanced at Elowen. He was in the exact same position as they had left him, down with his knees up and arms hanging limply at his sides. He seemed deep in thought, fingers twitching on occasional. She could hear low, ragged breaths from inside his helmet, not rhythmic but sudden and tinged with fear.

“We’re going to the law master’s, to go get the payment.” Tipsy said.

He didn’t reply, but his breathing got a bit harsher.

“Um...Von Iris? Come on, I think of all of us you’re gonna get paid the most, I mean, you did slay a fuckin’ dragon.” Tipsy tried to joke, lightly nudging him, but Elowen didn’t move. Jay tilted her head, and frowned, looking up at Tipsy, who could only shrug.

“He’s been like that the whole time.” Ziggy said.

Jay scratched her chin, then poked Elowen with her broom. The helmet vibrated with a dull metal clang, but Elowen still didn’t budge. Radan, bag looking a little fuller than before, paused, and kneeled down to meet Elowen’s gaze. They lightly shook his shoulders, but the paladin gave no response, so with an uncertain look, they reached out and smacked the side of Elowen’s helmet.

“EAUGH!”

Radan was on the ground in seconds, head splitting against harsh cold cobblestone. Tipsy gasped; Ziggy stared; Jay cringed; and Beetle...Beetle stood there, cactus attached to one hand and a jar of catnip in the other.

“Are you okay!?” Tipsy covered her mouth with her hands, watching the faun slowly twitch.

For a second she got real scared, wondering if they were ever gonna move at all, but finally, Radan managed to prop themselves back up, shakily standing on their own two hooves. Jay reached a hand out, but Radan pulled back. Slowly, Radan stumbled forward, and the group could only watch in stunned silence as Radan turned the corner and disappeared.

Tipsy whipped back to Elowen, who was lurched forward, hands digging into the dirt and stone, shaking like a leaf. “Well thanks for that, Von Iris!”

“Where am I?” Elowen croaked, “I don’t even know what’s happening!”

_What the fuck?_ Tipsy blinked; he was joking, right?

Jay took the charge. She sat right in front of Elowen, grabbing his helmet-gently, but firm enough to keep him in place, forcing his gaze to only focus on her.

“I don’t….where….what’s happening?”

“You don’t have to worry about it, i-is this about the Samaaris crap? Just, just don’t worry about it, we’ll be out of your hair soon enough you don’t need to push us away!” Tipsy bit her lip, uneasy feeling returning.

“I don’t know...I’m not where...Jay?”

Gods, he sounded so confused, like he had just woken up from a dream. Or, a nightmare, to be more accurate.

Jay simply nodded and flashed a little peace sign.

“Why...why are you here? You’re not supposed to... _Belimar_.” Elowen seemed to gain some semblance of recognition as he glanced around.

Ziggy scoffed. “You followed us here, dummy.”

“You just hit Radan.” Tipsy stated. Did he really not remember?

“I _hit_ Radan?” Elowen looked at his hands, flexing his fingers out, hands noticeably shaking again even as the rest of his body stilled. He seemed so...horrified or disappointed, or perhaps, both? “I hit them”

“Oh it was amazing, he went flying!,” Ziggy cackled, “Funniest shit I’ve seen all day.”

“No, no,” Elowen pressed himself against the shop walls, breathing so loudly even Tipsy could hear him gasping for air, “I didn’t-why was-I didn’t want to-didn’t mean to-”

Jay lightly forced his helmet to turn back to face her. Slowly, the knight calmed down again.

“We were just gonna head to the law master’s, and Radan tried to get you outta your lil’ trance there and uh...it didn’t go well. I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, and it’s not like any of us are important, but you-you just...hit them, practically cracked their skull open.”

“I thought I was being attacked,” Elowen whispered horsely, “She was there and I didn’t-…”

Curiosity got the better of Tipsy. “Who?”

“No one,” Elowen shook his head, “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

A breeze blew through the empty street, kicking up a few pebbles and fallen leaves.

“Well, he’s off his rockers,” Ziggy said somberly, “Let’s go.”

Sounded like a plan to Tipsy. She helped Elowen stand, the paladin feeling more like deadweight than anything else. He didn’t say a word, just stood there, whispering to himself, still trembling. Not like a hero, not like a warrior, just...a person, a scared, desperate person.

It made Tipsy scared, too.

She just didn’t know why.


	7. Dealings and Demons

One hundred gold pieces jangled in her backpack. Well, one hundred and fifteen, including the bag of extra gold she, ahem, borrowed from Master Akdov back at the monastery, tucked in her pockets. Elowen held his head low, hands curled, almost hugging himself-he definitely got a few glances as they walked back to the inn, and Elowen flinched at every stare. Ziggy played with the bag containing his fifty gold-Beetle now one hundred and fifty gold richer, something about a ‘new lute’ and ‘emotional damage tax’, but Ziggy didn’t seem to care, more focused on the glory that was sure to follow than the money. Jay was absolutely loaded at the moment, having taken her own pay and both Radan’s and Elowen’s. She presumed Jay was going to give the money back to their proper owners, but Elowen kept refusing it during their walk back.

Inside the Marigold, as innocent as ever, Toast chowed down on some sandwiches, crusts cut off and in a little pile on the corner of his plate. Clover polished a glass, narrowing her eyes as she watched the group come in.

“...Welcome back.” She said, cautiously.

That was about all it took to completely and utterly break Elowen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry-”

He darted up the stairs, all creaking metal and dull, shaky breaths. Clover stared as Elowen disappeared, frowning. She put the glass down with a dull thud.

“Radan didn’t exactly say what happened,” Clover looked back to the group, looking rather tired and a bit worried, “But uh, I assume it wasn’t good.”

Tipsy shook her head. “It was not, no.”

“Was a little funny, though.” Beetle said with not a shred of empathy. Tipsy shot him a glare, but the tabaxi was already leaned against the wall, tail flickering back and forth as he relaxed. Ziggy whispered something to the same effect, and Tipsy briefly considered punting the grung into the ceiling before remembering that she was trying to keep a cool head here, and simply twiddled her thumbs.

“I don’t exactly know what happened exactly,” Tipsy supposed Clover deserved some kind of explanation, “But Von Iris was just staring out into nothing, like he was seeing something we couldn’t, so Radan tried to get him out of his trance there and Von Iris just...swung.”

“S-Swung?,” Clover stuttered, eyes wide with horror, “Like, his arm?”

“Yeah, practically cracked Radan’s skull open, punched Radan straight to the ground.” Tipsy noticed Clover’s brow furrow, a look of intense worry crossing over her face.

“I did see some scratches on their face when they came in, they seemed pretty down...were um, you able to find everything you needed in Merrick’s? I saw Fallon come in, a little bit before Radan did, and I gave him some supplies to make some care packages for the villagers.” Clover gave a faint smile.

Jay held up her pet broom.

“Well, Jay found a broom,” Tipsy said sagely, “Ziggy found some weird flowers-please don’t demonstrate them, Ziggy, and Beetle found uh...”

Beetle waved the hand with the cactus still attached to it around.

Clover’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. She stepped around the bar, and held her hand out. “Come on, let me see, lower your hand please.” She all but demanded. Beetle did as he was told, for once, and Clover inspected the stubborn cactus closely. “Oh, this is a Moonflower Cactus! Put your hand on the table, I’m gonna go grab some water real quick.”

As quickly as she left, Clover whipped right back around, a pitcher of ice cold water in one hand and a glass in the other. She trotted over to Beetle’s hand, palm (and cactus) on its side resting on the bar counter, and poured the water against the cactus.

Almost immediately, the cactus let go, popping right off Beetle’s hand, leaving nary a needle left-though there were definitely quite a few pinpricked holes in his paw.

“There we go!,” Clover smiled, and cooed at the cactus, pulling it closer to her, “Oh, weren’t you so dehydrated!”

Beetle pursed his lips as he watched Clover treat the cactus like a newborn baby. Clover glanced up at Beetle, back down to the cactus, and then jumped.

“Do you want it back? I just wanted to look at it, I haven’t seen one of these in quite some time.” Clover seemed completely in awe by the plant.

“What does it do?” Tipsy asked.

“It’s just a moonfall cacti, they bloom in the fall time, especially under the moonlight, which is why they’re, er, called moonfall cacti. They were native to Fenharrow, used to be pretty abundant from what I remember…,” Clover looked to the side for a moment, a somewhat mournful look ripping over her, “Haven’t seen one of these in over thirteen years, now that I think about it...yes, yes, but when they’re dehydrated they’ll latch onto anything they can and suck the moisture out of its victim, so it’s good I got to it when I did, otherwise you could be keeling over by now.”

“Too bad you had to show him how to get it off,” Ziggy grumbled, “It was funny.”

“Here, in fact, have the rest of this, you must be feeling pretty light headed.” Clover passed the waterglass to Beetle and filled it up. He didn’t say anything, but the way he eagerly sipped down the drink showed that he was at least somewhat grateful. “Why don’t I-oh, hello! I don’t remember you!”

A figure in a deep red cloak walked down the stairs, ignoring Clover. Tipsy narrowed her eyes; pale pink skin, round glasses, blonde, near white hair…

She knew this figure.

“Hey-hey!” Tipsy called out as the disguised god slid from the stairwell to the doorway. The god, Samaaris, it had to be her, paused, and looked behind her, glasses catching in the afternoon light. “Who are you?”

The goddess blinked, and smiled. “Oh, nobody.”

She walked right out the door. Tipsy grimaced, and marched over, hands curled. What the fuck? The god had harassed them enough already, why play some stupid little game with them now, here?

Tipsy kicked the door opening, ignoring Clover’s cries of protest. She looked around wildly, trying to spot the goddess-it had to be her, she knew it was her, but the crowd was thick in the city square and there was so much hustle and bustle it was hard to see two feet in front of her. Finally, she saw a glint of red, and the woman, staring back at her with pale blue eyes, making direct eye contact.

The woman smirked.

A man passed by with a cart loaded with fancy floral arrangements.

She was gone.

Tipsy slowly stepped back, letting the door shut on its own. She turned back, frowning, facing the group in stunned silence.

Jay held up her journal. _That was the fucking grape, wasn’t it?_

“Definitely.” Tipsy nodded, “And uh, she just disappeared into thin fuckin’ air, so um...”

Clover looked horrified. Oh, right, Clover.

“Just,” Tipsy repeated her now near-mantra for the day, “Don’t worry about that.”

“Feel like I should.” Clover bit her lip, eyes darting around the room.

“Well, just to catch you up,” Beetle leaned over the counter, “We met a goddess.”

“And she might be stalking us, so there’s that.” Ziggy added.

“We have a couple of problems.” Tipsy chuckled nervously.

Clover stared, eyebrows so far up they could touch the clouds. She nervous grabbed her dishrag off her apron, twisting and turning it around aimlessly. “I’ve never, eh, really considered myself a religious person, a-and you all are...scaring me. I don’t know what to make of this, r-really...”

“This god-she wants us all to go on a quest together, or something? But now Von Iris has punched the shit out of Radan and fuck if that’s gonna go well. We should,” Tipsy sighed, “We should probably do something about that...”

Almost on cue, Radan walked down the stairs. Their cheeks were a bit puffy, a bruise on one side of their face, and a somewhat red cast on them. Their hair was down, but they slowly were braiding it as they walked down, facing the floor. Without saying a word, equipped with the world’s most vacant expression, they sat down at the bar, finishing up their braid and folding their hands together as they looked into nothingness. Jay frowned, taking a seat next to them, and patted the faun on the side.

“Radan,” Clover asked tenderly, “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” They replied, too quickly to really be ‘fine’.

Clover didn’t seem to believe Radan, and neither did Tipsy for that matter, but Radan clearly didn’t want to dwell on it. Toast took the other seat next to Radan, smiling, saying something in draconic that Radan gave a quiet answer to. Jay slid Radan his pouch of money-she stared at them expectantly. Reluctantly, Radan took the money, quietly tucking it away.

They turned to Tipsy. “Where’s Elowen?”

The million copper question. “He went up to his room almost immediately. I don’t-I don’t think he quite remembers what happen? He was acting pretty strangely.”

“Yeah,” Radan clicked their tongue, “I assumed as much.”

“Sh-should, uh,” Tipsy shifted around, increasingly uncomfortable, “I go get him or…?”

“No, no, I think he needs some space. Leave ‘im be.”

“Alright then. Um…,” Tipsy motioned to the side of her face, the same side on Radan that held the nasty purple and black bruise, “Do you need anything for that? Should I get a potion? I think Fallon should still have some.”

“It’s just a bruise,” Radan said casually, too casually, “I’ve certainly had worse.”

Ziggy cleared his throat.

“Well, now that we’ve established that the cow is okay, and that he’s got his money, and everything is fine, let’s go get food! I’m starving.” He grinned with sharp fangs in full view, “I believe there’s a feast waiting for us, especially me? Big hero feast?”

“I think you’re forgetting someone.” Clover crossed her arms.

Ziggy frowned. “No.”

Beetle smiled. “Who?”

Tipsy looked up the stairs. She supposed...well, it wasn’t like Radan was going to want to talk to Elowen anytime soon, so she supposed she might as well try to rouse the paladin out of whatever weird bullshit was going on with him. She wasn’t great with words and terrible at speeches, but...but...eh, who cared, the paladin was being strange and stupid anyways. If the bastard wanted to be bashful, fine, but Tipsy would be there to remind him that he was the one they called Valiant.

“You can go ahead if you want,” Tipsy said, “I’m gonna go…”

_Thinkthinkthink_

“Fix my hair.”

The perfect lie. No one would ever suspect what she was up to.

Except for Ziggy, apparently. “You never do your hair.” He said with extreme suspicion.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tipsy hissed, and scampered up the stairs. She was vaguely aware of Beetle following behind her a few seconds after, some slight words exchanged with Clover and Ziggy (something about the cactus being endangered, or whatever), and the nimble tabaxi was quickly able to outpace her and head into his room, leaving Tipsy alone in the hall, standing outside the closed room she was fairly certain housed Elowen.

_Okay_ , she took a deep breath, _You can do this._

She knocked on the door. Perhaps a little louder than she meant to, as Tipsy heard a loud thump and reverberating metal. She cursed-fuck, hadn’t meant to be that loud-and tried to compose herself.

“Um, Von Iris?,” Tipsy called, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, are you in there?”

“...Yes, I am.” His words were tinged with exhaustion.

“Just uh,” Tipsy fidgeted, unsure where to go from here, “The feast is basically ready at this point, was um, wondering...can...can you open the door?”

Metal against wood, a creak, and Elowen peered through the door, figure hunched and looming at the same time. He only had the door open a wee bit, just enough for Tipsy to see into a single slot on his helmet-she couldn’t really make out his eyes, but she could still sense the bags under them, and the tears welling up in them.

“Um-the-uh-er-,” Tipsy gritted her teeth, “Radan’s downstairs, they seem pretty okay, no harm no foul really. I mean, there’s a light bruise there but nothing major. I think it’s um...it’s all okay, I guess.”

“It’s not okay,” Elowen said, voice low, “I should have never hit them.”

Tipsy paused for a moment. “It’s fine, it was an accident.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Elowen continued on like Tipsy hadn’t spoken at all, “I hurt them, I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t know where I was and _I hurt them_.”

“Well-uh-” Tipsy swallowed her nerves, “Radan’s gonna help you regardless of what you did, you are paying them after all, so I mean-”

“They won’t help someone like me,” Elowen said with conviction and venom in his voice, “I don’t deserve their help.”

Something in Tipsy switched. She frowned, eyes narrowing, crossing her arms and straightening up her back. Who...who did this paladin think he was? He thought he was a monster? He thought he was scum of the earth? What, he had one moment of panic, made one mistake, one bad mistake, sure, but a mistake, and suddenly he wasn’t worthy to walk in this world? What the fuck? What the _fuck_? What did he know about being a fuckup? What the fuck did he know about...about…

A familiar rage filled her.

“You are a paladin,” Tipsy hissed, “You can’t just say that, you-look, come on, you’re not a horrible person for one mistake-”

“I’m a horrible person for a lot of reasons.”

Red seeped into her vision for the second time that day.

“ _You’re_ not! Stop it! You’re blowing it out of proportion, it was just an accident, Radan is fine, if you want to talk to them and apologize, fine, if not, go to the stupid fucking feast and get so drunk you won’t ever remember what happened. But I guess if you’re so convinced you’re such a monster, such a blight on this world you can stay locked up in your room, _Valiant_.”

“...”

Elowen looked at the ground, refusing to meet Tipsy’s gaze any longer.

“I’m not hungry.”

Tipsy grabbed the door handle and swung it shut.

She stood outside for a moment, trembling, breaths getting shorter and shorter. He-he had to be joking, right? He must be joking! Tipsy continued to silently rage as she stumbled towards This knight, so important and above the others that the prince of an enemy country knew tales of his great deeds, thought he was a bad person? Thought he didn’t deserve anything? What kind of stupid line of thinking was that? Didn’t he see how great he was? Didn’t he see all the good he was going? One mistake wasn’t going to define Elowen the Valiant, a thousand mistakes wouldn’t define him, he

He

In his shadow

She was blinded couldn’t see couldn’t feel he would prop them up bring them to great heights and what would she do who did she think she was

Inserting herself into their legend his legend he asked Ziggy she had to grovel she had to beg how could he think he she she her shadow her legends whywhy why

Why did

WhyBreath. Breath.

Breath.

Calm. Calm?

The water. Water basin. Need to. Calm down. Hands hurt head hurt lungs hurt breath in ignore the water breath out ignore the darkness breath in ignore the water ignore the burning it hurt it hurt it hurtThere was a knock at the door.

Tipsy screamed.

Her lungs felt like they were on fire, still coughing up water. The room was a wreck-brief flashes entered her mind, punches and screams, but only vague memories, pieces to a puzzle she couldn’t remember.

A deep sense of shame radiated through her.

She was a monster.

Tipsy stumbled to the door, trying to squeeze water out of her hair and failing. She fumbled through her pack, quickly grabbing the one hundred gold from her bag. She creaked the door open, cheeks flushing; Clover stood there, arms crossed, completely unamused.

“...Sorry about the room.” Tipsy croaked, handing Clover the gold and stumbling out, letting the door swing wide open.

Clover looked at the gold, the room, back to the gold, back to the room, back to the gold, glanced over at Tipsy, quickly retreating down the stairs, again at the room, and forced the world’s fakest smile.

“It needed an upgrade anyways!” The faun chocked out, tucking the gold into her pockets and angrily following behind Tipsy like she was about to snap her neck. Tipsy hoped she did.

Tipsy wasn’t sure this day could get much worse, at this point all she wanted was to disappear into a void of nothingness but...what…

What was that smell. Wood? Smoke? Burning?

_Oh fuck, Ziggy-WHAT._

“The fuck-the-what the fuck happened!?” Tipsy screeched, pulling at her hair.

Clover huffed. “I could ask the same question!”

Jay laid back flat against the ground, a giant smile on her face and a thousand yard stare in her gaze. Her skirt was singed, and one of her boots was missing, off to the side in a half-melted heap. Her leg...gods, it looked terrible, skin all red and burnt and smelling horribly crispy, covered in some kind of strange salve mixed with bits of herbs. Tipsy could see the floor by the bar counter was completely burnt, though thankfully nothing was actually on fire at the moment. Ziggy was missing, the door to the Marigold wide open as if he had just run out.

At least Beetle seemed fine?

“Wh...wuh….wh...I...” Tipsy looked at Radan for answers. Radan shook their head and shrugged. Whatever had happened, they didn’t have an explanation for.

Clover disappeared into the back, tense and grumbling to herself. It made Tipsy feel horrible, and she probably deserved to; wow, so not only had Tipsy fucked up a guest room completely, but apparently Ziggy just straight up burned the Marigold, after they had just declared themselves _Guardians of the Fucking Marigold_. And because of her own stupidity she had to give Clover the hundred gold, when she needed that fucking money, and wouldn’t be getting the second part of that payment, the other hundred gold, until they reached Greymouth-if they reached Greymouth at this point. Why was she so stupid?

“A...Are you okay, Jay?” Tipsy asked dumbly.

Jay flashed a thumbs up, still on the ground.

“Aight.”

“I have the potion!” Clover held up a faint red and blue potion as she came back around, handing it off to Jay. Jay chugged it, grimacing at the taste, and flexed her leg.

It kind of healed. Still not great, but at least she didn’t look fresh from a roasting anymore. With her leg sort of fixed, Jay leapt back up in a way only an acrobat could do, perfectly balanced on her one remaining good leg (and one remaining shoe).

“There you go dearie,” Clover sighed, and pulled a pastry from out of her pocket, “For the road, yeah?”

Jay took the pastry and tucked it away. Guess it made sense, they were about to go to the feast and even with the motley state everyone was in, no sense in spoiling your appetite yet. She cast a glare at Beetle, who looked ever smugger, and leaned against Radan as she cautiously let her bad leg down. She could walk on it, but with a definitive limp-

“Tipsy...” Elowen trailed off, right next to her, the metal giant somehow managing to make his way close without Tipsy noticing. She nearly jumped out of her skin right there. “I’m really sorry. I haven’t had a good handle on my emotions and my mental state today, and I was harsh with you.”

The idea of Valiant being the one to apologize to Tipsy before she had even considered how to approach him nearly made Tipsy keel over with laugher. “Oh, it was nothing, don’t even have to ‘pologize, it was nothing. I was being a bit of a wanker anyways-I should probably find Ziggy, where’d he go?”

Elowen shifted his head ever so slightly. “I did upset you though, so I just...wanted you to know that.”

“Huh? You didn’t upset me,” Tipsy ignored the water still dripping off her hair and onto the floor, “I’m fine.”

“Are...are you sure?” Elowen didn’t exactly sound like he believed her.

“Yeah, no worries,” Tipsy wracked her brain for lies to cover what she had done, “Just uh, was trying to move the beds together so I could have more space and accidentally broke one of the headboards, heh. Had to move Ziggy’s water bath to the other room, and uh, didn’t go so well as you can see. Hopefully the gold I gave you helps to cover that, yeah Clover?”

Clover looked at Tipsy with complete disdain.

“...Yeah so anyways,” Tipsy clapped her hands together, “Let’s go to the feast!”

The sun was high in the sky, and Tipsy had to squint her eyes to adjust to the newfound light. Almost as soon as they exited the group found themselves surrounded by clapping and cheering villagers. Ziggy was up ahead, looking quite stunned, not moving even as Tipsy rushed to his side. Curled around his shoulders was Fireball-oh, for fucks that, idiot must of summoned the squirrel spirit, that’s why it was all kinds of fucked up in the Marigold-, who, despite Ironhaven’s supposed distaste for magic, no one seemed to mind too much.

As she regained some semblance of peace, someone tugged on her pantleg. Expecting it to be Ziggy, Tipsy glanced down; instead, a young child stood next to her, chubby little hands wrapped around a flower crown.

“This is for you, miss hero.” The child said.

Tipsy gingerly took the flower crown from the child’s hands. “...Thanks?”

She wasn’t sure if it was a prank or not, or if the flowers meant something horrible that an out of towner like her wouldn’t get, but sure, whatever, flower crown. Tipsy put it on her head, ignoring her own trepidation.

Ziggy was still shellshocked when the child went up to him, handing the grung the flower crown. He narrowed his eyes, clearly unfamiliar with it, and began to turn it around.

“Baby’s breath...daisies...bluebells...why are they all tied together?” He muttered.

“It’s a flower crown, Ziggy.” Elowen knelt down, his own crown hanging off one of his decorative antlers, and carefully adorned the grung with his crown, “It’s to honor us, they made it as a gift. Wear it proudly.”

“Not really sure you earned that flower crown, considering what you did to the Marigold.” Tipsy smirked, leaning over Ziggy. Ziggy puffed out his cheeks and began to walk a little faster to get out of range of Tipsy’s hands, presumably in fear she was going to dethrone the floral king.

“No, I earned it!” Ziggy pulled down harder on the flower crown. Tipsy rolled her eyes and walked forward, trailing behind Ziggy.

Several tables were pushed together in a semi-circular fashion, surrounding the same fountain Tipsy remembered she and Ziggy passing out in after the battle. Ah, that felt so long ago, even if, thinking about it, it was maybe, what, three days ago? Several tables to the side were mushed to form a long buffet stand, piled with plates of breakfast foods-not a lot of meats, most of that was stolen, but definitely enough yummy stuff to make her realize just how fucking starving she was. Steaming hotcakes, bowls of fruit and freshly made jams, crisp toast and golden eggs...gods, if she wasn’t in public Tipsy would go ballistic for all that right now.

As the group made their way to an especially well decorated table with six chairs waiting, Bran and Clover stepped forward.

Clover went first, angry demeanor melting away as she spoke.

“Well, this all couldn’t of been done without you.” She said simply, motion for Bran to go next. He lifted his glass, filled with some kind of sparkling white wine-champagne, did they call it?

“Here, here!” Bran cried, several other villagers also repeating the phrase and lifting their own glasses. He made his way to the edge of the fountain, standing tall and proud, smiling. He waved his hand, and the crowd went silent. “To you six, thank you for saving our town of Belimar. This day could not have been as joyous if it wasn’t for you six. And this spread could not have been done without the generous donations of the farm families surrounding our humble village, who came to us in our time of need. Thank you all for a wondrous afternoon of families rejoined, and as many lives as we have lost, we are here to celebrate their-their lives a-and their br-brav-bravery-”

Bran chocked up for a moment, wiping away a few tears.

“Well, let’s all just enjoy our food,” Bran raised his glass high into the air, “Shall we?”

No one disagreed with that.

The next few minutes went by in a blur; at some point Tipsy found herself seated next to Elowen on the knight’s left, Ziggy on her right and eagerly chowing down on his usual meal of eggs and more eggs. Tipsy nibbled at a few of the pastries and the few scant bits of bacon she was able to secure, as villagers, ones she kind of recognized, came up to the party and thanked them for their heroics.

When the last of the people subsided, and the party was left alone, Radan let out a deep, soul aching sigh, plucked a single daisy of their crown, and popped it into their mouth.

“This has been the longest three days of my entire life.” Radan said, deadpan.

“Well, this was certainly a detour that I didn’t expect to have happen, but I suppose it was more fortuitous than I thought.” Elowen picked at his food. He still wasn’t exactly eating, but at least with the straws provided by Clover he was sipping some kind of thick, blended fruit drink with a smooth, glossy finish to it.

“People definitely seem to love...oh, fuck.” Tipsy cringed as she saw someone approaching.

It was the bookseller, the crotchety old fuck carrying two books under his frail arms. He didn’t look happy, but he also didn’t look quite as miserable as he had in the shop, so that surely counted for something. He was steadied by a younger man, only a smidge taller than him, with a very nervous expression.

“Hello.” The old man greeted the group, if it could be called a greeting. More like a dying wheeze.

“Good day, sir,” Elowen politely bobbed his head, “How are you?”

“Doin’ better, thank you. If it weren’t for you lot, my bookstore would have been completely destroyed. It’s very singed but me an’ my books,” the man nodded, “We’rre gonna be okay.”

Jay raised her glass and took a sip. Tipsy was fairly certain there was either vodka or water in there, and she didn’t know which was funnier.

“Books are a precious resource, I’m glad they’re safe.” Elowen smiled-or, she presumed he did under the helmet.

The taller man returned the smile, though his face seemed permanently creased in worry. “Yes, my father, Bevon, and I are vary gracious that you were able to save his shop. And, actually, father, how about you give them the-”

Bevon slammed the books on the table with a loud thump. “Consider this my own payment.”

Elowen leaned forward and slid the books back. One of the books was familiar-the stupid godforsaken children’s book. Tipsy didn’t say a word as Elowen slid the book to her, silently tucking it into her backpack. Stupid fucking books and stupid fucking dust, gods. The second book was significantly heavier, a large compendium with an ornately illustrated cover, one depicting several dragons of varying designs. Must of been some kind of encyclopedia, then. At least Elowen got something useful.

He flipped through the book carefully, one page at a time, clearly trying not to rip the pages with his metal gauntlets. Tipsy leaned over, with some interest, Radan chewing on some kind of strange leaf the size of their head while also leaning over towards the book.

“You wanna look up the kinda dragon we fought in that cave?” Radan asked.

Elowen thought for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea...”

The bookseller cleared his throat-a gross hack of mucus and...Tipsy didn’t wanna think beyond that, really-and nodded. “Hope you found that in good taste.”

“Alright father,” Bevon’s son slung an arm around his father’s shoulders, “Let’s go-”

“Ehm, wait,” Radan said suddenly, head shooting up, “We...well, my friend here,” they motioned towards Jay, who seemed slightly uncomfortable at the attention, “Bought a sorta interestin’ journal at your store the other day, an’ I was wonderin’ if you could tell us where you tell us where it came from or how it ended up there.”

The son gave something of an apprehensive look to Bevon. “Well, uh...”

“What kind of book?” Bevon had no time for nonsense, staring directly at Jay.

Jay shifted around, and finally procured the journal, which she cautiously held out to Bevon. Bevon grabbed the book, quite carefully all things considered, licked the tips of his fingers, and in a truly oh gods why manner, began to flip through the pages with wrinkled hands.

His eyes seemed to hold some flicker of recognition as Bevon turned to his son. “Felix, take a look at this.” The bookseller said sharply as he shoved the book into Felix’s hands.

“Uh...oh, oh!,” Felix gave a small smile, “I remember this book! Wasn’t it-”

“Yes, yes,” Bevon nodded, “A rather young elf came in with a box of assorted items. I assumed the journal was empty so I put it on the shelf, but apparently it was not.”

Elowen tapped his chin guard. “Did he have long, reddish brown hair? Perhaps even worked at the apothecary down the street?”

Bevon thought for a moment. “Might have been, yes.”

“Well, nice to know all the journals came from the same place.” Elowen relaxed a bit, clearly in thought, turning to Radan.

“Seems to me that every Fenharrow related item came from the same place.” Radan took another long, savoring bite of the strange leaf thing.

“Obviously Merrick had more ties to Fenharrow than I thought...” Elowen put down his glass.

“Fenharrow?”

As if he had almost forgotten entirely about the bookseller and his son, Elowen briefly tensed. “Ah, nothing sir,” Elowen said airily, “Why don’t you just go and enjoy your brunch? There’s no need for all this heavy talk amongst the townspeople.”

Bevon grunted, clearly suspicious. But he was just a meager villager, as Elowen had said, so he passed the journal back to Jay, and simply looked at Felix, who could only shrug. Slowly, father and son walked away, Felix nervously muttering something about ‘other people to see’-whether an excuse to get Bevon away from them or to get himself away from them, Tipsy wasn’t sure.

Poking at a pastry, some strange little puffy thing filled with a delicate vanilla cream, Tipsy sighed. Finally they could left alone...or not, as they realized about a second later than Beetle that Rowan was at the buffet line, holding two plates, quietly filling them up and passing by the “hero’s table” as he went back to the Marigold.

Beetle reached a long arm out and grabbed Rowan’s hand, purring. “Hello there stranger, where ya going?”

Rowan nearly dropped the plates.

“Oh, um,” Rowan seemed slightly disappointed to see Beetle, “I was just gonna take these back to the inn...how are you all doing? Jay, it looks like your leg is doing better.”

Jay forced another smile. Didn’t her face hurt doing that? It was a real ear-to-ear kinda grin. Elowen patted her shoulder, turning to Rowan.

“You probably shouldn’t bring that up right now.” Elowen said politely.

“Probably not,” Rowan shook his head, “Just wanted to make sure she-erm, you were okay. Uh, oh! Anyways, if you guys want to come meet us at the private rooms at the Marigold later today, after all this is over, we can discuss payment.”

“I’m sure Clover will be so excited to see us again.” Elowen took another small sip of his weird fruit drink.

Ah, shit, Tipsy cringed, remembering the damage to the room, Where the hell are we gonna sleep tonight? No, no, wait, there’s the other key, the spare room Ziggy was gonna be left alone in, you can just move in there. “Uh, Ziggy…,” Tipsy started. He looked at her, mouth full of eggs, and she lost her nerve almost immediately. “Eh, never mind, actually, we’ll talk about it later.”

“...Right, well, good luck with that,” Rowan nodded, “I’m gonna head back in, we’re gonna eat, and uh, feel free to pop on in.”

He left in a hurry after that, Beetle vaguely disappointed. Elowen turned back to the dragon book, clearly getting somewhat frustrated by the slow pace-Tipsy glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“That’s a pretty big compilation there…,” some kernel of nostalgia wormed its way through her words, “I wonder if they have any dune devils in there?”

“Or one for a dark scary star dragon of death?” Radan put their head on their hands.

Elowen flipped back to the table of contents, dragging a finger along the worn out pages. He paused, though his hand obscured what he had found, and he quickly flipped forward past several long texts to get to the page. He tilted the book towards Tipsy, though some of the ink was faded and smudged with time. “Is this what you want to see?”

_{Dune Devils. Rare, underground dr____s, found only in Dunefold. Primarily native to th_ _____ regions, but can be found _____ as we_l. Masters at di_____, with the on__ ____ be__g the ___ sh___ that they leave in their wake. Highly dangerous, and rarely leave ____vors. Only the most experienced of h__ters should try to trifle with Dune Devils.}_

“Uh, n-no,” Tipsy stumbled nervously, “I already know about them, you don’t have to worry about that-uh, just focus on trying to find whatever the hell we fought back there.”

He gave a slight pause, then flipped back to the index.

“You haven’t encountered one of those beasts, have you?” Elowen asked.

_Son of a bitch-_ “It was a long, long time ago,” her voice began to speed up despite herself, “Kind of a funny story, actually-”

A voice echoed in her head. _Everyone has their limits, and you need to learn yours….we can handle these kind of battles. You can’t._

The fork bent in half in her grip. “I mean, I don’t have any experience with uh, normal dragons anyways, but that beast we fought was pretty weird. Haven’t-haven’t you had, uh,” Tipsy did her best to recall what little knowledge she had on Hammershire and its paladins, “Friends that fought dragons? What dragons did they fight?”

“…,” Elowen tilted his head to the side in clear confusion, “Are you referring to Droyn the-no, my apologizes, Frederick the Turbulent? I really shouldn’t be getting them confused, I had a rough morning. But Frederick came much before me. I never met the man, he died shortly before I became a paladin.”

Huh. Not the answer Tipsy expected. She supposed she didn’t know what she expected; Elowen the Valiant and his little gang of similarly titled paladins sitting around a table much like this one, with tea and biscuits, discussing what town they were gonna save from certain doom next. What kind of a title was Turbulent?

“Ah-ah!,” Elowen brightened up, “I believe I found it. ‘Nightmare dragon’...”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Radan nodded, probably thinking about...whatever the dragon had growled to them in draconic. Probably how tasty the cow-man would be, or something.

Elowen flipped through several pages, finally landing on his prize. He murmured and mumbled, “Hmm...alright…okay….says that they can only hatch during the longest night of the year, with clutches of three to four, typically.”

_Very helpful, Valiant._ Tipsy resisted the urge to snark.

“They’re known for cloaking themselves in darkness and are typically found-oh,” Elowen looked a little closer at the text, “Northern Heartcrest and Fenharrow border...no known origin, but it’s presumed they’re from the Moaning Wastes.” He tapped against the text block print of ‘Fenharrow’, deep in thought. “This pretty much confirms it in my mind, Merrick was from Fenharrow and brought the dragon in here. It wouldn’t have surprised me if during his stay he was able to hatch it.”

“But...why?” Tipsy frowned.

“That’s the thousand coin question now isn’t it.” Elowen fidgeting with his hands, tapping a finger against the table.

“He has to be working with other people,” Radan looked over the page, eyes freezing over the illustration of the dragon, “It couldn’t have just been him.”

“Why would a man from Fenharrow decide the best place to set up his base of operation was in Belimar?” Elowen’s tapping got quicker, “And who would order him to come here?”

“Was he looking for revenge?” Tipsy leaned in, trying to keep her voice down, “I mean, not to say anything that’ll get our heads lobbed off but uh, from what little I know, who could blame him?”

“I can understand why he’d be upset with Ironhaven, but just senselessly targeting villagers, you would think he’d want to take his anger out on someone more...important...” Elowen straightened his back, “Did he know that Prince Fallon was going to come here?”  
  
Tipsy bit her lip. It sorta made sense, and yet…“How would he know that? No one but Clover would have known he was coming.”

“And yet,” Elowen set the book down on the table, still opened, “Somehow he still ended up with the prince in his clutches, and managed to enact his plans while the prince and his royal guardian were here.”

“Do you honestly think those kobolds would ‘ave been smart enough to take instructions on which people to abduct? Toast doesn’t even remember what ‘appened.” Radan swung their hoof around, slumped over on the table. Bored, clearly.

“You think it was just sheer dumb luck?” Less an accusation on Elowen’s end and more a genuine way to try and get the conversation moving.

“I mean,” Radan shrugged, “Belimar wasn’t the only town that was ransacked, was it?”

“Lawmaster mentioned that uh,” Tipsy tried to recall the conversation she had, it felt like ages ago and her brain was already mush from the day’s previous events, “There were a few other towns that had been ransacked, but before Belimar, and never anything of this scale. Just look at the destruction...”

She motioned to the half burnt buildings and injured villagers. The scars would take months, if not years, to heal.

“It would have been a gathering of resources,” Elowen said confidently, “Building up strength for a final strike. Perhaps he did just get lucky that the prince was in town, but...”

Jay slid Elowen the journal, looking at him expectantly. It was opened to, of course, the pages with the strange entries-the ones that they probably shouldn’t have been flouting around in public, but no matter, most of the townspeople were too busy laughing or eating to pay much attention to a crusty old journal. He looked between the journal and the book. There were pieces to a puzzle here, a puzzle that Elowen clearly understood, but didn’t have all the parts to.

Radan brought their voice down to a half-whisper. “I find it interestin’ that the founder of Ironhaven was a woman with ehm, you know, elemental magic.”

“And I believe the rulers of Fenharrow were her descendants. They carried the name Mapleglade in their royal line.” Elowen traced his fingers alongside the edge of the journal, though with a quick glance from Jay, decided it was best to simply hover just over the journal instead of risk ripping its delicate pages. “When I reading back in Bevon’s shop, it said the founding of Ironhaven came with the original King Archeron uniting with the woman who held the Mapleglade name. His weapon and her magic allowed them to seal the demon king Hadeon away. Ironhaven has a foundation in magic, but I am left wondering why the Mapleglade name is associated with Fenharrow.”

Tipsy was acutely aware of a few pointed gazes on her. She looked up; a few younger villagers, children really, spying on them between bites of food. Easily scared off by the glare she gave them, but a definitive reminder.

“Yeah, um, how about we keep this conversation to the inn? Not to interrupt, but,” Tipsy gave a vague motion to the children, “But uh, you know, feast going on, don’t wanna get arrested.”

“Ah, yes.” Elowen handed Jay her journal back and tucked the dragon compendium away.

It was a good thing too, as Tipsy noticed Harkin approaching, a hearty grin on his face. He clapped his hands together and waved, giving a small bow.

“Yoohoo! Hello, heroes!” Harkin leaned over, looking around, “Can I get you anymore food? Perhaps clear away your plates?”

Jay handed him a plate with a single bite taken from a piece of bread. Harkin blinked, but thankfully said nothing.

“Could you get me more ale?” Tipsy asked.

“Sure, sure, I’ll check with Clover.” He said, collecting the plates one by one. “Here, let me get that all cleared away for ya...”

“No, no,” Elowen shook his head, “Allow me, please.”

Tipsy looked over. Wow. It had to be an act, right? She flashed back to when Elowen had knelt down like he was nothing, cleaning up the mess Tipsy made. He saved villagers and he helped clear away plates, it was stupid how good he acted. Didn’t even want money, didn’t want attention, refused the name he had earned because...what, bashfulness? Perhaps, like Tipsy, waiting until he could earn the right to reclaim it as his?

She became acutely aware of the fifteen gold she kept on her.

Hm.

While Elowen was leaning forward, handing the plates to Harkin, Tipsy slid her fifteen gold against a side crevice in his armor. She wasn’t even sure if Elowen would ever notice it there-gods, she wondered what he had lost because he accidentally dropped it and it disappeared into his armor-but there was always the saying about the counting of thoughts, right?

“Tipsy!,” Clover cried, hopping on over, looking significantly calmer and significantly happier, “I heard you needed some more ale. I have some more in the back of the inn, if you wanna just hop inside, and I can get you a big ol’ pint.”

“Works for me,” Tipsy shrugged casually. She looked back at Ziggy, who seemed preoccupied with trying to murder and-slash-or eat a fly that had landed on his eggs. “Are you done here, Ziggy?”

Ziggy froze, like a deer in front of a carriage.

“Why would you call me out in front of the lady?!,” Ziggy half whispered and half shouted, so it was said in a normal, if slightly strange volume, “I’m trying to keep my head low. Shut up.”

You know what, fuck it. “Okay, fine then, walk to the Marigold yourself and get your feet dirty!”

She had enough of the feast, anyways. Tipsy strolled through sturdy oak doors into the tavern, eyes immediately relax upon seeing the dimmer lighting and the beautiful, beautiful pink waiting for her. Clover gave a polite smile, but watched her carefully.

“Ow-watch it, gold man!”

Tipsy turned. Apparently the rest of the party had decided it was also time to head inside, with Ziggy hitching a ride on Elowen’s shoulders. He shot a smug, pointed look at Tipsy.

“Should we head to the private rooms?” Tipsy asked.

“The private roOh! Right, I just saw Rowan and Fallon head in. The rooms are just back over there, behind the double doors.” Clover motioned to the far back of the inn, where sure enough, a nondescript set of doors. It was funny, as Tipsy vaguely recalled seeing those doors, when she and Ziggy had first settled on a spot in the bar where they all first met. Where they all...first met….

Tipsy took a couple steps forward, about to eagerly sip down her drink, but paused just before glass met mouth.

“Did you tell anyone, anyone at all, when, you know,” Tipsy motioned back to the private rooms, “The reservation was made?”

“No, no, it’s all me.” Clover shook her head.

Tipsy furrowed her brow. “Not a soul?”

Clover carefully stood out from behind the bar, concern clearly written in her features. “It’s just me and my books that run this inn.”

“When was the reservation made? For Rowan and Fallon?” Elowen asked, catching on to the conversation topic.

“I’d say it’s only been...hm...well, I got a courier letter about a week or two ago. Was officially sealed and everything, didn’t look like it was opened.” Clover answered honestly, frowning. Elowen sighed, and tugged at the feathers of his helmet.

“A courier letter, huh...” He trailed off.

“Why don’t we just ask Fallon this?” Radan sounded annoyed and apathetic. An interesting combo, that.

“Aight.”

Tipsy began to chug her ale. By the time she reached the double doors, kicking them open, her glass was empty. She carelessly slid it onto the closest nearby table, heart almost freezing when she realized how close the damn glass was to the edge of the table, but relaxing when she saw it stop. Eh, if it crashed after that it wasn’t her problem.

The hallway was long and narrow, surviving the brunt of the fires to showcase ornate red wallpaper on either side. There were three doors, two to either side and one at the far end, cracked open with light inside. With slight hesitation, Tipsy opened the doors.

It was a long room, fit for maybe twenty people. Rowan sat hunched over, arms crossed, looking at Fallon, who had his legs casually propped up on the table, a thin, twisting crown that resembled branches perched on his head.

“That’s a bit pretentious, don’t you think?” Tipsy shot a look. A crown. Really?

“Oh, this lil’ ol’ thing?” Fallon giggled, “I quite like it.”

“I can tell.”

She took a seat, Jay taking one just next to her, an eyebrow raised as the mime took in the new look. All the nervousness of before seemed to have vanished; he appeared more like a proper prince now, and by that Tipsy meant an absolute twat.

Beetle sauntered right over to Fallon and Rowan, taking a seat not in a chair but on the table. “There are my two favorite people! Oooh, love the new look Fallon, I wonder what changed.”

Tipsy looked a little closer. Fallon’s eyes were a little dulled down, she supposed, not glowing like before. Must of put those contacts in, from the disguise kit.

“Ehehe, dashing as ever!” Fallon gestured for the rest of the party to sit down.

Like a true knight of Hammershire, Elowen thumped down into a chair, sighed, pulled his knees up to his chest with a horrible scraping sound, and wrapped his arms around his legs. Ziggy glared at Tipsy, sticking out his tongue, remaining on the paladin’s shoulders. Tipsy frowned, and as petty as she usual was, turned to Jay.

“Hey, look,” she whispered, “I just wanna like, show ‘em up I guess, so can you like, get on my back? I mean, no problem if you don’t wanna, but I just, he’s being a real ass right now and-”

Wordlessly (although, Jay was always wordless so…), Jay jumped onto Tipsy’s shoulders, pulling out a few tiny ballbearings and juggling them absentmindedly. Tipsy made direct eye contact with Ziggy, who seemed both in awe and in complete jealousy, and finally turned back the prince.

Head on his hands, Fallon began to speak. “First of all, thank you for saving the townsfolk of Belimar and myself, it really means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” Elowen nodded, “If people are in danger, I have an obligation to save them no matter what. I’m honored that I could have helped.”

“I would also like to thank you for putting up with my friend over here.” Fallon winked at Rowan, who rolled his eyes.

“He only called me a prat once,” Elowen chuckled, “So I think I can deal with it.”

“Oh really? That’s interesting, he’s usually much more vulgar,” Fallon cast another glance at Rowan, whose face was going a dark red as he sat back in his chair, curled up into himself, “Well, first of all, I would like to offer you all two hundred gold each for saving me.”

“Holy shit!” Tipsy covered her mouth, stunned. The cost of fifteen villagers’ lives were the same as the life of one prince, on the _spirits_.

“And I thought Rowan was Jay’s sugar daddy...” Radan mumbled, just under their breath. Not quietly enough, though, as Fallon snorted indignantly.

“I’m actually Rowan’s sugardaddy, so, you know.” Fallon wrapped a lock of hair around his finger. Rowan, meanwhile, had resorted to staring at the individual specs of dirt on the floor. Beetle imeddiately began to laugh, Tipsy entirely unsure whether he was forcing his laughter or if it was real, and leaned in close to Fallon.

“Got room for one more?” Beetle asked, licking his lips.

Fallon raised an eyebrow. “I dunno, what are you offering?”

Beetle leaned in closer.

“ _Anything_.”

Rowan had now resorted to staring at the individual grooves on the table.

Fallon thought for a second, lips pursed. “I’ll get back to you. Anyways, second of all, I would like to replace any equipment of yours that got burned or destroyed or...”

Jay held up her singed barefoot.

“Yeah, I can replace that, sure.” Fallon went from cringing to smiling prettily at Beetle, “I know of a great craftsman, one of the best in Erora, who can fix you up with a new lute.”

The bard did not cry when a bunch of kobolds came into town and nearly killed him.

The bard did not cry when he got hit with a mysterious ancient spell and faced off against a dragon.

But the promise of a new lute?

Beetle’s eyes became suspiciously watery. “You’re too good to me.” He chocked, wiping away a few stray tears.

“...Don’t know if I want the king’s money.” Radan grumbled.

“Well, if the king’s money is not something you want,” Fallon gave a devious little smirk, “Maybe I can offer you something different.”

“Like what?”

Fallon grinned, showing off pearly chompers-Radan had fallen for his trick hook line and sinker. “As I’m sure Rowan had mentioned yesterday, we came into Belimar to pick up some champions for a festival happening in Greymouth later this month. And...unfortunatley,” his tone got more serious, “All of those contestants were killed.”

Tipsy’s mind flashed to the lovers.

Gods…

“We were going to meet up the night of the attack, and that obviously didn’t happen.” Fallon gritted his teeth, fidgeting a little.

Rowan picked it up from there. “Yeah, so, we’re in a bit of a pickle right now. The tournament is less than a couple of days away, and Fallon was told-more so ordered-to find a team, and have them compete.”

Somehow, Tipsy got the subtle inkling that this wasn’t the answer Radan wanted. Maybe it was by the way they were hunched over, or their hitched breath, or the fact that literally everything about their body language right now screamed horribly uncomfortable and about to throw hands.

“Well,” Elowen slowly straightened his back, legs back on the floor now, “That really sucks, huh. Good luck!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m not really welcome in Greymouth.” Radan rubbed their temple.

“Aww, come on, it’ll be fun-I’m down to go to Greymouth,” Beetle winked, “I have no problem with that.”

“Sorry,” Tipsy sputtered, trying to regain some semblance of order in the quickly spiraling conversation, “Can you, uh, just, a little more about this tournament?”

Rowan nodded. “The tournament, of course-”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Fallon waved his hand around, cutting Rowan off completely, “So, the tournament. First off, I don’t need all of you. I only need, say, four teammates-there’s only four events. And I bet you would all be very interested in the prize...”

“Tell me what the events are first.” Radan practically growled, a slight intensity overtaking their usual casual demeanor.

“Let’s see...we have a feat of strength, an archery competition, a slight of hand competition, and the last one, well,” Fallon shrugged, “The last one’s a mystery, I haven’t the slightest idea what the fourth event could be.”

“I hope it’s a Make Ironhaven Look Like a Goddamn Fool competition.” Elowen sneered.

Fallon rolled his eyes, though his irises seemed to glow just a touch brighter than before. “We do that plenty on our own.”

“You do.”

“So…,” Tipsy’s mind was sent reeling. An archery competition? A slight of hand? A feat of fucking strength? “Essentially, you’re asking us, a bunch of random nobodies, the only one here who has done anything remotely worthwhile to society being a paladin of, essentially, an enemy country, and you want us to go in front of hundreds, if not thousands of people, and you, prince Fallon, want us to get our skulls cracked open and embarrass ourselves in front of everyone.”

She wasn’t even aware of Jay hopping off her shoulders until she noticed Jay glaring, now seated next to Radan. What did Tipsy say?

“Or,” Fallon held up a single finger, “I offer you the chance to live comfortably. I offer you the chance to get exposure, really get your name out there. And I haven’t even mentioned the grand prize, which is a meager, eh, I’d say ten thousand gold coin and an estate in your name.”

Her jaw fell to the floor.

“Deal,” Beetle nodded like a goddamn bobblehead, “I was already in, but now I’m like, super in.”

“How many people did you say were gonna be there…?” Ziggy narrowed his eyes in deep contemplation. Ah, hells, of course Ziggy was gonna be interested in the tournament.

Fallon leaned back. “I’d say close to around ten thousand people.”

Ziggy pursed his lips up, and tilted his head to the side, deep in thought. “Coming from many different places?”

“From all around Ironhaven, certainly,” Fallon paused for a moment, “Maybe even some others as well. I know some of my superiors who have chosen teams did ask outside in neighboring allies, and I can assure you, you will be very known around Ironhaven.”

“Ah, that’s exactly what I want!” Elowen slammed his hand into the table, voice full of false pep, “Hooray, Elowen! Ironhaven’s _hero_.”

Radan went through several expressions, all of them bad. “How about,” they said after some consideration, “We let Ziggy an’ Jay an’ Beetle an’ Tipsy do their thing, aaaaand me an’ Elowen will just not! We’ll just not.”

“I never said I was gonna do this.” Tipsy grumbled.

“Must be interested in the prize, at least.” Radan gave a weak smile. Tipsy rolled her eyes, but the faun was right. Ten thousand gold...as much as she didn’t deserve it, that’d be enough to set her for life.

Sensing the rising tension again, the room a smidge colder than before, Rowan leaned over to Elowen. “I know you have your own business.”

“I did say that,” Elowen nodded, “But listen to me very carefully.”

Her blood turned to ice in her veins as Elowen stood, towering above the prince and his guard. Fallon kept smiling, eyes beginning to glow, just like before; and the cold in the room couldn’t just be a figment of her imagination, as she saw Beetle’s teeth chattering, and Jay’s puffs of breath.”

“ _I’m. Not._ _Fucking._ _Fighting._ _F_ _or._ _Y_ _our_ _._ _G_ _oddamned._ _ **C**_ _ **ountry**_.”

Elowen stopped.

“Are we clear?” He asked sweetly, as if he hadn’t just near-threatened the prince of a nation.

Fallon narrowed his eyes, almost challenging Elowen. It was a contest Elowen refused to break from, as the knight completely refused to sit down, claws slowly digging into the table.

“Listen here, Elowen the Valiant,” Fallon spat with venom laced in every word, “I know that Ironhaven is not at its greatest right now, with my father in charge. But what I do not need you to do is insult my people, and my country. I am trying as best as I can to get us out of this shithole, and the last thing I need is more outsiders coming in and blaming it on my people.”

This was, in hindsight, a mistake. Elowen’s claws grew-literally grew, no denying that, as he dug his fingers into the table his claws began to extend and his armor almost seemed to puff up, like a bird of prey trying to scare of another beast. He shoved his face mere inches away from Fallon’s, the room going so cold Tipsy almost couldn’t stand it. Briefly, she saw Ziggy, pleading for held as he trembled, either from fear of Elowen or the bitter cold in the room, but Tipsy couldn’t do anything, she could hardly even breath.

“I will start respecting your people when you stop killing mine,” Elowen growled, “Don’t play this game with me, prince. I know your people mean a lot to you, but they are not the ones being **murdered**.”

Fallon’s face was blank. He looked at Elowen, and down to his claws, dug deep into the wood now, cracking and splintering the table, then leaned back in his chair.

“Fine,” Fallon said casually, “Don’t participate in the tournament, that’s fine by me, I only need four. But, I would be a fool if I didn’t ally myself with one of the last great paladins left standing, and push you away, so...so. I would like to offer you the chance to start an alliance with me, and the people I know, to help put an end to this.”

Elowen took a deep breath. His claws shrank back, and he slowly sat down, as if he hadn’t been transforming into some kind of armored beast just a second ago. “I would be very interested in that. And like I said earlier, I would offer you my fullest protection. I believe that you are very valuable to both my people and yours, and keeping you alive-”

Tipsy tried not to dwell on the implications there.

“-Would most certainly be in my best interest. But I will tell you now, Hammershire will always come for me, and if I, at any point, feel that my country is going to be more endangered by your actions than saved, _I will not hesitate to turn on you_.”

He stopped.

“But as long as our interests align,” Elowen must’ve been smiling under his helmet, not that anyone could tell, “I will consider you a valuable ally.”

Delicately, Elowen took Fallon’s hand. He shook it, and then pressed the lower half of his helmet against the top of the hand, in some attempt to mimic a kiss.

The chill in the air dissipated. “I consider this the start to a great partnership.” Fallon said, nodding absentmindedly.

Rowan, who had been watching all this go down with a nervous look in his eyes, cleared his throat. “Erm, anyway, we were planning on leaving in the morning. Would you like to accompany us back? Since we’re all heading the same way.”

“That would be most convenient.” Elowen tapped against his leg, only sounding like he was halfheartedly listening at best.

_Ten thousand…_ Tipsy frowned. “Well-”

“Yes?” Rowan looked over.

“Ah, never mind,” Tipsy shook her head, “It’s not important, continue on.”

Rowan wouldn’t drop it. “We have time now, speak your mind.”

Tipsy sighed, and leaned forward. “Will anyone from Dunefold be there?”

“Not that I know of, no,” Rowan started, “Dunefold’s been pretty silent at the moment, and we aren’t exactly on great terms with them at the moment.”

“ **Good**.”

Jay looked alarmed as Tipsy spoke, and frankly Tipsy was alarmed at herself.

Elowen mustn’t of been paying much attention, though, as perhaps if he had heard her words he wouldn’t have snapped his fingers together and cheerfully proposed, “Why not after the tournament, we make a quick stop there? I have some unfinished business in Dunefold. Perhaps we can work something out with them. Hammershire was in the middle of forging an alliance with Dunefold when I left, they would make powerful allies.”

And Tipsy

Saw

_Her_.

“Dunefold!?,” she stood up so fast the chair fell over, “No! You can’t-you can’t just go to fuckin’ Dunefold, why would you ever want to go there!?”

“Well I-”

“You-you can’t-I-FUCK IT!”

Tipsy stormed to the door, biting down on her lip. She spun around, unsure where her eyes just felt like acid or if she was actually going to cry again, and looked a surprised Fallon directly.

“I’ll do your damn tournament, but just-just- _give me a bit_.”

She walked out. She walked out right past Clover, up the stairs, back to the same goddamn room she had just destroyed because she was so STUPID and she was so CARELESS and she was so she was so she was so SHE WAS SO-

“There’s better techniques to calm yourself down, you know.”

Surrounded by broken splinters of an already destroyed room, head submerged in a basin of water with no intentions to let herself back up to breath until instinct took over, Tipsy screamed, a smirking goddess waiting by the side.

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo!  
> This is a play by play write up of the Dungeons and Dragons campaign my friends and I are doing to keep ourselves saaaanehahaha the world is on fire but ANYWAYS  
> I play Tipsy, which is why it's all in her point of view. Our DM is the lovely Sam, Gib plays Radan (Gib is also working on little edited videos of our sessions, which you can check out here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BBzWlFeuss), Ace plays Elowen, Val plays Ziggy, Juna plays Jay, and Austin plays Beetle. I'm posting this on Ao3 more for record keeping than anything else, since each chapter gets longer than the last and it's...starting to be a lot of pages BUT I mean hey, if you enjoy this and you aren't one of the aforementioned six people, welcome aboard! We've done about six sessions split into seven chapters so far, and because the first three chapters are all in one giant doc I'm gonna post the next two in like...five minutes and then go to a pace of one chapter every...I dunno, one to two weeks? We have to take a break for midterms so uhhhh don't want to raise too many expectations. Se y'all next time!


End file.
